A Tale from Tevinter
by Linlin23
Summary: A Dragon Age 2 AU: After his second mage child is born, Malcolm Hawke uproots his family and goes to the haven of Tevinter. The Hawke children grow up in the Imperium, and the results can be catastrophic. Can Marian save her family from the Magisters of Tevinter, or will they fall to their own demons? Female Hawke/Fenris eventually.
1. Chapter 1: End of the Road

**A Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter1**

**End of the Road**

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"There it is, little Sparrow!" Malcolm turned to his raven hair daughter. He leaned down, brushing his thumb over the dirt that had gathered on her cheek. Lifting her head from the backrest of the wagon, amber eyes looked on following her father's indicating gesture. The sun was low, setting behind a dark shadow on the horizon.

"Minrathous?" Leandra breathed, ducking her head out from under the wagon's canvas to see the destination they had set upon so long ago. Amber eyes watch as her mother, Leandra, shivered at the black spiraling towers on the horizon. Her lips held in a thin line as her arms pulled her napping twins, Caver and Bethany, closer to her breasts.

"We're almost there Marian," Her father gave her a pensive, yet hopeful smile. Marian returned the smile, though it never lit her eyes. Malcolm gripped at the reins in his hands, flicking them against the oxen's backs.

"We've made it though, haven't we?" Caver's young face popped up, a yawn dropping his mouth as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"We're in Tevinter now, are we not?" Bethany finished, the twin doing a mirror rendition of Caver's yawn. "No more running?" Her blue eyes glanced around, but instinctively she directed her gazer to her elder sister. Her blue eyes looking for reassurance. Marian gave a thoughtful pause. Finally, she nodded to Bethany. They younger girl let out a cheer as she wrapped her arms around her elder sister. Pulling her into a tight embrace, Bethany squeezed at Marian's shoulders. It was impossible for Marian not to share in some of the relief, the hope, that exuded from her sister.

"We've been in Tevinter's borders for three days now," Malcolm chuckled as Caver moved to join his father in the front seat. Glaring at Marian, Carver shoved his older sister over to take his place by their father. Marian sighed, letting herself be pushed. Carver could be such a jealous ass. Opting to ignore him, she instead directed her attention to the embrace of Bethany. Marian reached up, grasping a hand to Bethany's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze before pushing her sister back. She moved to get into the back of the wagon, desiring to leave Carver and her father to share the last leg of the journey.

Marian was tired. She'd ridden up front with her father since they took the road from Kirkwall around the mountains. She'd kept him awake, and kept her eyes sharpened for danger, for three days. She was readying to leave the front seat to Caver when her father called her to stay.

"I want you to see this Marian," Malcolm said warmly, smiling at his child. She could see the tired, worn lines around his eyes and she nodded as she returned to maintaining her current seat. Caver growled, folding his arms and puffing his chest out. No doubt he was jealous, again, that father wanted her near. Marian didn't blame him, her father did rely on her, but that was simply because she was older. She may have been only fourteen, but she was more able to help protect their family then Carver, Bethany, or even her mother.

"It's not like we're going to be beset by wolves," Leandra clucked her tongue, putting a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Honestly, Malcolm! Let us camp for the night. You are tired, and the oxen are beyond worn down. A good rest," She smiled as she kissed her husband's cheek, "and then we may all enjoy the arrival to our new home. Let us see it with eyes wide awake, and while the sun is still in the sky."

Marian sent a glance to her mother, a small unspoken relief in her eyes. Malcolm sighed, seeing the reason in his wife's request. He examined his family, his eyes lingering on Marian who looked extremely exhausted though she sat ridged in the wagon. His pride welled in his chest, as he hurried the oxen onward. There was a nice grove near a stream nearby and it would make a good place to camp. His daughter had done well. She had been dependable and strong throughout the journey. She had never complained and had helped to keep them all safe. His eldest was truly worthy of their family name Hawke.

"I'm not tired," Carver scoffed, glaring at Marian, knowing that it was for his sister's consideration alone they would camp tonight. Leandra just dismissed Carver's whine while Bethany rolled her eyes, but Marian simply kept her eyes on the road. The sun was too bright over the horizon, and it seemed magnified as though reflecting off a mirror.

"I smell the ocean," Marian mumbled, pulling her cloak about her frame. She felt her head bob once, the world going black. A feeling of disorientation, of falling, and her head jerked up. Blinking her eyes, gasping a little, she shook her head for good measure. The world was very bright, even as the sun was setting. It seemed odd, but she knew it was just the lack of sleep catching up with her.

"Now, now," Leandra crooned, whispering softly into Marian's ear as she wrapped firm hands around her daughter's shoulder's. Marian felt her body lifting, and wondered for a moment how it was that she was levitating, until she found herself pulled into the back of the carriage, Her mother smiled at her and kissed her cheek, wrapping a thick fur around her daughter as she hummed lightly. "You've done so very well," Her mother's sweet voice played in her ear as her long fingers combed slowly though her dark hair. "Sleep, my darling."

As though it were a command spell, Marian's world went black once more, and she laid in a dreamless sleep. She knew not how long she had been out, but when she awoke she was still in the back of the wagon. She felt warm. Looking to either side she found her brother and her sister were curled around her. All three siblings laying under the furs that lined the carriage. Marian could hear a crackling fire in the distance, and see star light that glistened though the flap of the wagon's covering.

"She's just a child!" Marian heard her mother's voice in a hushed whisper. "You drive her too hard. She nearly fell today from exhaustion. You know she's never been so vocal as Carver or Bethany. You need to make sure that you don't wear her out so!"

"She's not _just_ a child," Malcolm's calm, deep voice echoed in return. "She's a Hawke. Dear, I wish I did not need her help so, but you know there is nothing to be done of it. When we are in Minrathous, and I have settled a house for us, you and the children can have a normal life."

"Normal?" Leandra scoffed. Marian could not hear what her father said, his voice a low gravely sound. She could make out sobs mixed in under his tones. Closing her eyes, she focused on the underside of her eyelids.

"Hey, Sis," Bethany's voice called to her, a sweet sensation of warmth brushing against her cool cheek. "Sis, you should eat something." Marian opened her eyes, spying the hand of her sister as it brushed the hair from her face. "I'll take your order," She chimed sweetly. "Would you like bread, or bread?" Marian chuckled in her throat.

"Oh the choices are too overwhelming," Marian smiled lightly at her younger sister, "Would you pick for me?" Bethany shrugged and handed over a cloth wrapped scrap of bread to her sister. Marian sniffed it, the bitter smell as the dried bread was starting to turn curdled her stomach. "No helping it is there?"

"Father and Caver went to see if they could pull some fish out of the stream," Bethany offered apologetically. Marian coughed, choking on the dry bread. Bethany handed her a water flask, helping her drink as she rubbed her back. "Yeah, I know," she rolled her blue eyes and smiled, "Carver working..."

"I'm good," Marian breathed, handing the flask back to Bethany.

"Really?" Bethany asked, her big, blue eyes flooding with concern. "It's just, you look so worn," Bethany's young face scrunched in a frown, her fingers fumbling with the water skin. "I wish I was stronger, that I could have helped more. If I had better control, I could have helped keep watch," There were small tears of frustration in Bethany's blue eyes, lightly breaking onto black lashes.

"It's fine," Marian sighed, giving her sister's hands that grasped hopelessly at the water skin's cork. "There's no need to worry about that anymore. We made it. No more running, remember? That means no more tears." Marian slipped a hand behind Bethany's neck, pulling her sister's face toward her own. She brought their forehead's together so she could stare directly into Bethany's sea blue eyes. When she had her sister's attention, she offered her the usual half cocked smile brimming with bravado that seemed to always make the younger girl laugh. It had always worked thus far, whenever she felt the need to help ground her sister who was so often caught in a torrent of emotions. Bethany relaxed, and giggled a little, sniffing at the tears as she enjoyed her sister's strong reassurance.

It would be alright, because Marian would make it so.

"Hey!" Carver's voice bellowed, his mop of disheveled hair bobbing into view as he yanked up the flap of the wagon. "I caught some fish while you were busy sleeping. Shouldn't you be up by now? Mother shouldn't have to clean them all by herself."

Marian sighed as Bethany scowled. Pulling sore, overworked muscles up, Marian made her way out of the wagon's shaded covering. Their mother was sitting near the fire. Leandra was scraping her knife along the skin of a fish, scales flaking away under her blade. Carver stood proudly, his chest puffed out at the string of fish laying near their mother's feet.

"Morning, sleepy head," Malcolm smiled at Marian, his own dagger coming out as he joined Leandra in the cleaning of the catch by the fire.

"Morning," Marian drawled, testing the knot in her shoulders as she lifted her arms over her head. Straightening some, she made her way off behind some shrubs that laid near the tree line to relieve herself. Upon returning she went for the stream to wipe down her hands and face in the cold water. Straightening her robes, adjusting her belt until it sat comfortably around her hips, she considered the sight of the distant city. The building were black, even in the morning sun. The tower's reaching up like claws against the blue sky.

"Come sit by me, Sis!" Bethany waved Marian over from the stream. The older girl's feet felt rooted, though, as she looked off into the distance. It was hard to pull away from the notion of the black claws that pierced the sky.

"I swear," Leandra mumbled, "If I weren't the one who birthed you lot, I would say that it were Bethany and Marian that were twins."

Carver huffed, standing from his spot near his father as he went to gather his short sword from the wagon along with a wet stone. "Carver, you need your father with you if you are going to mess with that!" Leandra fumed. She quirked an angry eye at Malcolm. She had disagreed with the birthday gift, thinking a sword for a boy just turned twelve was too dangerous.

"I'm just sharpening it," Carver growled, setting to spitting on his stone.

"Ew, Carver! By the Maker, there's a stream just a few feet over there!" Bethany whined, scrunching up her face as her brother's spit dripped down his chin.

Marian was too lost in her own thoughts to notice as Bethany tried to get her sister's support in admonishing their brother. They were so close to Minrathous now, and something in her core felt like it was being whittled away like the fish in her mother's hands.

She had heard about Tevinter. The cities that were ruled by the magisters. The stories that ran through out Ferelden told of blood magic, demons, and of the Altus mages; the dream walkers. She thought them no more than stories to scare children of the evil of mages that lay across the sea to the north. Part of her, though, was afraid of the city near the sea where they were headed. She was strong enough to help protect her family from bandits and wolves, but from mages? Signing, she hung her head, trying to keep her thoughts from running down the 'What if's' that could absorb her.

A finger poked her side, and looking up she saw Bethany's blue eyes shining with joy as she handed her a cooked fish. How would she protect her sister? Marian shook her head, accepting the fish and ripping it apart. What was she thinking? Coming to Minrathous _was_ protecting Bethany. Her father was right to take them to a place mages were not locked up, nor killed outright.

They would be safe in Tevinter.

TBC~

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**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

**Notes:** I actually had to breakdown my writing for this chapter as it was getting too long for an intoduction. Also, I had to fiddle a little with the age difference of Bethany and Carver from Marian's age. They are actually around 8 years apart and I placed them at only two. Since this is an AU I can get away with it.

Anyway, I couldn't shake this idea that there was a possibility that Malcolm could have taken his family to Tevinter. Hence the story. Please let me know what you think, good or bad. I Should have another chapter up sooner than later.


	2. Chapter 2: Elves in the Garden

**A Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter2**

**Elves in the Garden**

* * *

"Andraste's great flaming arse! What is that?" Caver whispered, his breath caught in his throat as they neared the city. The wall that lined the city had massive figures. A Large, stone and metal man shaped creature encompassed the city wall's entrance. It was enormous and towered over many of the buildings. It's shoulder's were in keeping with the height of the wall itself.

"That, my boy, is one of the three golems commissioned by the magisters from the dwarves. They guard the city. Kind of like a really expensive defense."

"Well, let's just hope he doesn't sit down," Carver gulped, as the wagon pulled to the front gate, which lay between the creatures enormous pillar legs. "Or have to take a shit. Ow!" Carver grasped at the back of his head that had received his mother's admonishing slap.

A man yelled from the gate, his hand raised up in a halting motion as he stood in front of the cart. Malcolm straightened, hoping his grasp on Arcanum would be enough to get him through the gates.

"Hold," The guard in dark armor held up his hand to Malcolm, speaking the Tevinter tongue. "State your name and business."

"Hawke. Malcolm Hawk," He gruffed out, his Ferelden accent butchering the Arcanum words that usually flowed smoothly together when spoken in their natural dialect. Malcolm pointed to his children and wife who shared the wagon's seat with him. "My wife, son, and daughters."

"Your business?" The guard pressed, looking over Leandra, then the children.

"We're here for Artamus Dolan," Malcolm spoke as he pulled a sealed letter from his robes. The guard regarded the letter, glancing up at Malcolm with skepticism. Nonchalantly, Malcolm responded to the look by rising his hand and letting a light blue flame dance around his finger tips. "We are expected." The inquiring gatekeeper looked to the man behind him, a guard who had been scribing down the course of the conversation. Both their faces paled, but only slightly before the gatekeeper nodded.

"Forgive me, I did not know you were Laetan," The guard motioned to the wall. Another guard came down the stairs from the wall, his hands trying to keep his helmet from dipping over his eyes. "Show the Serrah to Messere Dolan's estate." He commanded the other guard, who did a quick bow, shouting his confirmation.

"There is no need," Malcolm said, "We can find our way, if you will but point us in the right direction?" The guard spoke quickly, his arm drawing a mazed pattern in the air. When he looked at Malcolm, who looked as lost as a puppy, he spoke slowly, and rather loudly. "You should let my man lead you-!"

Malcolm grimaced, but nodded in submission. Shouting didn't help him understand the man any better.

The cart rolled through the gates slowly, following the eased pace of the black armored guard who kept fiddling with his helmet as he took the family though the entrance of Minrathous. Marian was relieved to see that the buildings were just adorned with dark, rich wood. They were actually a dark honey color and not the black they seemed in the distance.

"Oh look at that!" Bethany gasped, pointing to a woman who was dressed in a long, thick dark purple gown. She was speaking to a guard at the gate, her painted maroon lips frowning in disapproval. Her dress shimmered like it was a flower covered in winter's first frost wherever the light hit it. "Her dress looks like covered with magic!"

"A deadly magic, I'm sure. Bethany," Malcolm dipped his head to the side, looking at his youngest daughter, "please don't try to draw any deadly attention our way?" Bethany squeaked out an apology, covering her mouth with her hands. Marian watch the woman though, her white hair flowing like a thick silver mane around her shoulders. She swore the woman's ice crystal blue eyes looked right at her just before their wagon lumbered around the bend and into the busy market streets of Minrathous.

The city was built around a port, one that had flourished and connected trade. Qunari stalked through the streets, horns poking through their white hair. Dwarves bustled about, either going to or fro with goods of one kind or another. Humans and elves mingled as well. The market was bustling with shouts about one sale, or a rare good from the bowls of the under dark.

"It smells like fish," Caver frowned, pinching his nose.

"It could be because there's like five stalls right next to you selling fish?" Bethany exasperated, irritated that her brother could focus on the smell and not on the wonder of all the sights around them. Even when they had broken harbor in Kirkwall had they not seen so much energy and trade flowing through.

It wasn't long until they were lead out of the busy clamor of the market stalls. The guard leading them yelled something over his shoulder, but Malcolm didn't understand what he had said. He only learned enough Arcanum so that he could get into the city. Most of the phrases he spoke to the gate keeper were ones he had memorized from a book Artamus had sent him when he told his friend he's intention of moving to Minrathous.

"Well, we shall have much to explore," Leandra wistfully spoke to Bethany and Caver, placing a hand and a gentle kiss on both of their heads. Marian, however, was not following the flow of excitement the rest of her family was sharing upon seeing the new harbor city. She still was on edge, and nothing would abate the feeling, she assumed, until her family were settled in this new home.

The businesses and homes near the entrance of the city were not shabby, but they were also not as nice as the homes near the market. Now, however, they were heading uphill and these homes made the other's pale by comparison. There were ornate gates, made of metal and stone. Lush greenery could be seen topping the walled domiciles. The homes were also large, some going three or four floors in their height. She quirked a brow at her father. Catching the look, Malcolm smiled in return. She had not expected this Artamus to be situated among such wealthy neighbors. After all, he knew their father, right?

They came to one of those fine estates, and the guard stopped. Walking up to an armored man who stood near the gate, the two men exchanged words. The family's escort returned to Malcolm raising his hand up, open palmed. He spoke a quick flowing Arcanum, one that Malcolm didn't understand at first. When the guard repeated himself, Malcolm caught the word 'Invitation'. Reaching into his robe he pulled out the sealed letter, handing it to the now perturbed guard, who quickly returned to this new gate keeper and mumbled something to the man.

As entertaining as all this was, Marian was not watching the exchange. Her amber eyes having caught a movement near the wall of the estate. A tree's leaves rustled lightly, and though that would be nothing on its own, it was the sight of two sets of green eyes that caught her attention. Blood red hair poked over the top of the wall, the forest green eyes set in tanned skin curiously watching the exchange. Marian was debating the notion of setting a fire on that tree where the observing inquisitive eyes perched, but thought better of it. After all, it wouldn't do to start off burning down this Messere Dolan's shrubbery before they were even invited inside.

Eventually the sound of the metal gate opening returned her attention from the prying eyes. The Hawkes were ushered forward, directed to the large, two storied estate where the cobbled drive lead. Before they were even pulled up to the double doors of the home, they opened. A very large, very fat, bald man bounced out of the estate. What hair he could have had on his head appeared instead to be invested on growing upon his chin. His long, braided, earthen colored beard waved from side to side as he jogged up to the family. He wore black colored robes, as was apparently the fashion in Tevinter. A hood that should have covered his head had fallen back in his energetic greeting toward his friend.

Marian was shocked as her father tossed the reins to Leandra, and jumped off the wagon. He met the man halfway, wrapping his arms around the wide spread shoulders of his friend. "Ya ol' dog!" Artamus laughed, hugging Malcolm and literally picking the man up off the ground in a hefty bear hug. "Gone and had a litter of pups?" Artamus asked setting down his friend and looking to the wagon. "I can see the temptation would be hard to resist though," Artamus winked when he looked at Leandra, nudging his friend in the ribs and laughing a laugh that was rooted in his large belly.

"Aye," Malcolm answered, glade his friend was not going to speak to him in Arcanum. "My beautiful wife Leandra, my eldest girl Marian, and my twins; Carver and Bethany." Leandra smiled sweetly as she helped the twins down from the wagon. Marian descended on her own, landing lightly on her feet. She glanced to were the green eyes she had spotted from the tree had been, only to find them no longer there. She shrugged it off, instead taking in the view of the estate while her father cajoled amiably with their host.

"Oh, please, there is no need~," Leandra's voice brought Marian back to the conversation.

"No, I insist," Artamus waved a large finger in front of his face. "You are in the Imperium now. You should look the part. Be proud of being a mage. But I am forgetting myself. First, we must eat! Your lot here looks like skin and bones!" Artamus smiled, lifting up one of Carver's arms and laughing. Carver looked to take offence until the Messere added, "We must feed the boy so he can grow and be a fine, strong man! Come now, little Hawke," Artamus grasped an arm around Carver, pulling the stunned boy close as he wrapped his other arm around Malcolm. "I have had a grand meal readied in your honor!"

The family was lead through the main hall, past tapestries and statues down through to a large room that held a grand table. The table was set, a beautiful flower displayed in the center of the table in a silver vase.

"Anitra!" Artamus boomed, as he motioned the travel warn family into the room. A crimson red haired elf with tanned skin and green emerald eyes appeared instantaneously, bowing low to Artamus.

"Yes, Master?" Her soft voice questioned.

"Our plates are empty! We must eat, bring in the food," Artamus waved the elf off who stammered a little. Her green eyes searching out her master as she whispered an apology.

"Yes, Master," She bowed low and darted away quickly.

"And have the guest rooms readied, and hot water brought up!" He laughed, knocking Malcolm hard across the back causing a cloud of dust to fill the air. "You look as dirty as sin, ol' boy."

"Maybe we should clean up before sitting down at your fine table, Messere Dolan?" Leandra dared to question, running a hand over Carver's tussled hair. Her manners dictated that you do not oppose the host's request. However, proper etiquette also dictated that you do not sit at a table while covered in dust!

"Nonsense," Artamus laughed, a ringed hand running through his brown beard, "Food, then I'll get you situated." Marian noted that the Messere was easily lead by his stomach as they were all motioned around the table. It was not long before silver lined bowls were brought before them. They were all filled with a delicious smelling, orange colored soup. Marian felt her stomach growl when the smell of fresh bread wafted into the room as well. Looking over she saw the red haired elf, Anitra, carrying a platter of sandwiches. When the table was set, the elves that laid the food down bowed low before being dismissed by a wave of Artamus' hand. They all left, save Anitra, who stood off to the side, near hidden in the shadows.

There was an endless stream of conversation at the table. Most of it coming from Artamus, who only stopped if he had asked a very specific question to Malcolm, and only then when it was one that he himself could not suppose to already have guessed the answer. Marian was glade of it. Diving into the meal, she struggled to keep from just lifting the bowl to her lips and pouring down the sweet, buttery contents. Taking a sandwich of meats and tomatoes, she struggled to not shove the whole thing into her mouth as well. She had not realized just how hungry she really was until there was so much delicious food laid before her. It had been months since they last ate so well, and this was but a brunch by the looks of it. What would a dinner look like upon this table? So caught in her musings, Marian became aware that something was wrong only when the room quieted. Everyone's eyes were on her, and she gulped, looking questioningly at her father.

"She has been trained by me," Malcolm stated, injecting the answer that Marian was too dumbfounded to give. "Both of my daughters are born mages, and I've been working with them to help develop their powers," Malcolm said as he uncomfortably shifted in his seat.

"More like hide them," Bethany mumbled next to her sister, only loud enough that Marian could catch the words. Marian frowned at Bethany for speaking such, but reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

"Well, we shall have to see what you two can do after yer' all settled," Artamus hummed, sipping the grape wine from his glass goblet. Bethany was smiling shyly, but Marian caught the uncomfortable fidgeting of their mother's fingers as she laid her spoon into her soup.

Sighing, Marian injected herself into the conversation, hoping to derail it from its current path. "Messere, If I may ask," she sat up, raising her hand toward Artamus, "I would love to see the market, and more of the city. However, I fear I do not speak Arcanum very well. Are there any books you may lend us? We've only had the one read to us, on the way here, by Father."

"Ah!" Artamus beamed at Marian, a large smile spreading his chubby bearded face wide, "Do I have any books?" Artamus stood, and rather dashingly waltzed over to Marian, holding out his arm to her. She looked at it quizzically. Glancing at her father, she waited for his nod before, placing her hand on the offered arm.

Artamus lead her out into the hall, and down two doors until they were near the entrance of the house. Artamus paused and turned to the wall that held two large tapestries depicting mages casting in scenes about a city of gold. An ornately carved double door with golden handles stood before them. Artamus slide open one of the doors, leading Marian into a room that made her gasp. Forgetting the arm she had held, Marian's amber eyes circled about the room as she spun slowly in place. Her mouth dropped. Artamus bellowed out a loud laugh at the girls bewildered awe.

"Now," Artamus laughed, proudly puffing out his chest, and tapping a fist to his chest, "Do I have books?"

"Yeah," Marian managed, wanting to run her hands over the tomes that lined the walls of the large library. The walls were bookshelves, only breaking when a window broke the steady flow of lined shelves. A ladder was set to roll about the room to aid in reaching the books on the higher shelves, and another ladder lead up to a second story of the room which overlooked the first. It, too, seemed to be much the same as the lower level, the written words lining two stories of the room.

"A woman after my own heart," Artamus smiled at Marian. "Books hold such knowledge, just waiting to be poured from one heart to another. The strongest magic is the written word."

"Rather poetic," Marian noted, wringing the fingers that desperately wanted to finger that wanted to touch the books lined about her. Her hands were dirty yet. "After I am clean, may I come here?"

"Of course," Artamus, smiled, offering the elder Hawke daughter his arm, "I shall also find your family all the books I have that I used to learn Arcanum."

"We're in your debt, Messere," Marian said, not even thinking much of it, but knowing it was true. "I don't know how we can repay you. My father must be honored to have such a friend."

"Ah, I'm sure he can find a way to repay me," Artamus beamed at Marian, patting her hand as they returned to the dining room.

Malcolm raised a brow at Artamus, on their return. "Showing off your collection? You do still have that vain turn about you."

"Well, what can be said of it," Artamus grinned happily.

When they had finished with their meal, the family was lead by their host to their perspective rooms. To the children's surprise, they each would have their own room. Bethany looked wide eyed at Marian as she stood at the entrance of the door that led to the small, comfortable looking arrange room that would be hers.

"Marian, I've never slept alone," Bethany gave Marian a troubled look.

"I'll be right here," Marian pointed to her room, it was just across from her sister's own door, "and Carver is right next to you as well." Carver poked his head out of the door that was just a little farther down the hall.

"Don't be a baby, Bethany," Carver said before disappearing back into his room and closing the door, "We need to get cleaned up."

"Yeah," Bethany grabbed her arm, hugging it close about her side.

"I'm right here," Marian assured her, as she slipped her hand behind her sister's neck. Dropping her forehead to her sister's own, smiling at her younger sister reassuringly she continued the ritual they shared since Bethany was a baby. Bethany took the comfort, and gave a small smile, before going into her room and closing the door behind herself.

Marian went into her room as well. It was large in her opinion though obviously not near the grandeur of all the other rooms she had seen. A small posted bed rested against the far wall, a wash basin and a night stand stood near a window that lined the wall. Her room also held a small fireplace. A metal tub was laid in the center of a thick rug in the middle of the room. The warm water in the tub was giving off a light steam. There was even a fresh towel resting on the back of the tub.

Stripping down, Marian settled in the tub. A bar of scented soap lay in a tray near the tub along with a bowl of petals. Marian smiled, grabbing the bowl of petals and the soap. Dropping the petals into the water, she began scrubbing away at the dirt that caked her skin and hair.

A knock tapped at her door, breaking away the spell the scent of sunflowers that played at her nose. Anitra's red hair bobbed into the room. The elf kept her eyes down as she held out a black dress trimmed with red lace, and a pair of slippers, to Marian.

"Master requested we find something for Serrah's children to wear after they were clean." Anitra stated set the dress and the shoes on the end of the bed. "We'll be fetching the tailor by tomorrow. I hope that this will do for now." Anitra bowed, a few wisps of red hair falling from the tight bun bound behind her head.

"Thank you," Marian started, unused to being waited on, "Anitra, is it?"

"Y-yes, young Serrah," Anitra kept bowed. "Is there anything else you require of me?"

"No, just thank you," Marian could practically feel the uncomfortable waves of emotion rolling of Anitra. The elf bowed, her tanned skin flushing as she dipped out of the room. Marian blinked confused at the door she had retreated from. Spinning her fingers in a lackadaisical dance Marian conjured, a small yellow flame. The flame dancing among her fingers as she considered the strange elf. Eventually, she dropped her hand into bath water, causing a sizzle as she reheated the water below her touch.

Relaxing in the bath until it once more cooled, Marian finally stood, stepping out onto the thick rug that lay below the tub. As she was drying off with the towel, the girl inspected the dress laid out for her. It was more elaborate than anything she'd ever worn, but she'd never worn anything that wasn't plain enough for a farmer's daughter. Placing on the thick dress, and slippers, she felt odd wearing such clothing. The dark dress offset her pale skin, making her eyes stand out even more when framed by her raven black hair.

"Look like I'm ready for a funeral," Marian sighed, tugging at the long sleeves. When she exited her room, she found Bethany still in her room, also finding the black silk as dour as her elder sister had. Carver came into the room shortly thereafter, his own navy tunic and black breaches much more flattering against his lean frame.

"Maybe it's just because it's a dress?" Carver pointed out, examining his sisters. "I've never seen either of you in anything other than robes and breaches."

"Well, here's hoping the novelty wears off sooner than later," Marian sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

Anitra showed up, bowing deeply and asking the children to follow her. Their parents were asking after them.

The family was gathered in the library Artamus had taken to show Marian. Bethany breathed in admiration at the sight of it, while Carver simply shrugged at the collected works.

"There are plenty of books covering Arcanum here," Malcolm gestured to his children, drawing them near a stack of books he was sifting through. Carver raised a questioning brow.

"Father, you already taught us the language on the way here. I do still recall that month we spent in the haul of a the merchant ship, even if I'd rather forget it."

"I taught you a couple tourist phrases," Malcolm blandly stated. "It did little other then get us through the gate. Now, Artamus is taking your mother and myself out to the market. There's a few things we need. When we get back I want you all to be able to teach me some new phrases." When he was greeted with a course of moans from Bethany and Carver, he took their mother by the hand and lead her out of the library. Giving a final glance to Marian, Malcolm met her eyes head on, "Take care of your brother and sister."

Marian nodded, waiting for the door to close before rolling her eyes. She wanted to study the language, but doing so in a room in which she would be trapped with Carver and Bethany? Those two fought constantly. "Bug off," Bethany growled, holding firmly to a book that apparently they both had decided they must have for themselves. Taking one of the ten un-fought over tomes, Marian climbed the ladder that lead to the second story balcony. A soft chair was braced near a window that had a good view of the gardens and the road. Sitting down, Marian watched as a dark carriage pulled out of the gates, a white horse pulling it down into the market.

Flipping open the book, she skimmed down the pages, mumbling some of the words written there under her breath. Carver and Bethany were bickering in the lower level, each trying to devise a good Arcanum way to call the other a 'Nug Humper'.

"This is all Marian's fault," Carver snapped, dropping the book he held back onto the stack that lay on the table. "You had to go and say that bit at lunch, didn't you?" Carver's voice called up to Marian. Marian, for her part, wasn't paying attention to him. Her eyes had abandoned her book, her attention drawn towards the window that overlooked the garden. Two elves, surely not much older than Marian were in the garden. They were climbing up that same tree that and overlooked the wall. The grace and agile movements of one of the figures caught Marian's attention, frowning, she tried to get a better look at the two figures below.

Carver was on her, his hand slapping to her shoulder as he pressed his cheek against this elder sister. His eyes following the sight that was apparently more interesting than any of the threats he had hence forth issued toward her. "Some elf kids?" Carver huffed, giving Marian a sideways glance. "What do you think? They're thieves or something?"

"No, I doubt it," Marian murmured, pushing her brother back and returning to her book.

"Well," Carver drawled, running his thumb across his nose and crossing his arms around his chest, "I better go check this out. Wouldn't do if someone were trying to steal from Messere Dolan's house and I just let it happen."

"Carver," Marian frowned, closing her own book when he didn't cease his decent down the ladder, his feet swiftly taking him to the library's exist. "Carver!" Marian growled, cursing the Maker as she hurried after the now disappeared form of her younger brother.

Carver found his way outside easily enough since they were near the entrance to the estate as it was. Leaving the home he quickly ran to the garden. The attempt to catch the elves requiring his haste in addition to the need to put distance between himself and the calls of his angered sister.

The garden held several trees, flowering shrubs, and some other plants he could not name. There was a gazebo lined with hanging ivy off to the back of the grounds, and a fountain that was surrounded by a mosaic of colored stones in the courtyard's center. Spotting the tree that could be seen from the window, Carver moved to it. However, even before he was under the fruit baring overhang of its branches, he could see that no elves were about it, nor up it.

"Carver Hawke!" Marian spat, the black and red laced dress flowing up higher up her knees then would be proper as she ran into the courtyard. "Get your blighted ass back inside, or so help me I'll burn every hair on your body off!"

"Andraste's tits, Marian!" Carver stuck out his tongue, "Father never said we couldn't go outside." Marian felt her brow twitch as she closed the distance, or attempted to but Carver had the mind to stay out of arm's reach even though he kept the bravado in his words as he spoke, "Just relax. We're behind a guarded gate, I'm sure it's safe enough. I don't need you watching after me."

Marian paused, unsure if it would really be okay. Her father obviously wanted her to keep an eye on everyone, but they were in a guarded estate, weren't they?

"Do you think it will be alright?" Bethany's voice came up behind her, but Marian didn't have an answer. Shrugging, she noticed the book still in Bethany's hand.

"Maybe not, if we keep studying," Marian said, taking the book from Bethany and heading to take a seat near the fountain. Bethany followed her sister's lead, but Carver snorted, instead deciding to play fencing with a stick he picked up off the ground.

"You'll get in trouble, Carver," Bethany scowled at her brother, who was too invested in his imaginary dark spawn battle to pay his sister any heed.

Marian tried to read some of the expression in the book to Bethany. Even though she knew she didn't know the words, she also knew she was not saying them correctly either. Mostly she assumed the problem stemmed from the inability to concentrate. She could sense that old, familiar, feeling of being watched. Pulling Bethany to sit closely beside her, she kept darting an eye out for Carver. She did not know where they were, but they were still in the garden somewhere. Part of her was starting to wonder if they really were a pair of thieves, but it seemed extremely unlikely. Probably they were servants trying to hide away from chores. Marian frowned, reminding herself that the elves around them were probably not servants, but slaves. If that was the case, then she had no intention of drawing attention to the absentee workers. If, however, they intended to cause either her brother or sister harm...

"Marian?" Bethany asked, blinking questioningly at her older sister. She could feel the shift of power pulling into Marian, the energy becoming an almost palpable force. Bethany released contact with her for fear she may be shocked, or blazed, or whatever it was that was pulling into her sister's core.

"It's nothing," Marian smiled, lying to Bethany as she slowly released the reflexive hold of her powers. They'd been traveling for so long. Her senses were literally on edge, waiting to strike down any threat that presented itself.

Luckily for all concerned, nothing came of the reading in the garden. When Malcolm and Leandra returned, the twins ran up to their parents, cheers and smiles with questions about gifts. Bethany was sporting a pair of white gloves soon, and Carver was fiddling with a small dagger, his eyes glowing contently. Marian watched the exchange, as they all seemed so happy. She smiled lightly, again wondering if this would be a place they would finally find a home.

"I see that the studying took a detour outside today," Malcolm smiled at his oldest child, crossing the garden to where she sat by the fountain.

"Well," Marian pointed to the book in her hands, "I still read to them. Doesn't it count?"

"Aye," Malcolm smiled as he leaned forward. Marian thought he meant to pat her on the head, but his hands went about gathering the hair around her shoulders instead. His fingers laced and tied a red ribbon into her raven hair. When he finished, he gave her an approving smile. "You're a good girl, Marian." Once more he leaned down this time planting a kiss on his daughter's head.

Marian smiled as she fiddled with the ribbon laced in her hair. "A ribbon, Father?" She chuckled, giving him a quizzical look. "You don't think I'll start playing the part of a lady now, do you?"

"If I had my way, that is all you would ever have to play at," Malcolm gave a half hearted grin to his daughter. "Let's hope that's all you will need to be from now on. I want you to enjoy some of your youth while you still can."

"I've not complained," Marian retorted, standing up and brushing the skirt of her dress down. Malcolm sighed, offering his arm to his daughter. He wouldn't argue with her about the years she should have had to enjoy. Years spent fight, running, and hiding. He didn't intend to argue, just intended to make it up to her.

"My, how lovely," Artamus smiled at the two who joined the group by the carriage that was being unloaded near the front door. "It suites you very well, indeed it does!" Marian gave a small bow of her head, before everyone was once more ushered inside by their host. His deep voice calling out for more food as they entered the house.

"That was like listening to a rabbit being choked," A red haired male elf said, rolling on his back from behind the far shrubs around the courtyard. His sister, who also bore the same blood red hair as their mother, laughed as she slapped playfully at his shoulder. "What a waste of an afternoon," he sighed, his green eyes looking up into the sky.

"I don't know what you mean, brother," The girl elf clicked her tongue, "We could have headed off the back way into the house through the cellar at anytime."

"I was rather hoping to get some more practice in this afternoon, if you must know," he explained, pulling his hands behind his head as he spoke. "Now I'll have to get back to the stables and start brushing down the horse." Another laugh brought a moss eyed glare to fall on his sister.

"Oh please! We both were curious, and now we're sated. Besides," she grinned wide, her eyes giving him a knowing look. "I saw the way you looked at the girl. She is a pretty one now, isn't she Leto?"

"Varania," Leto gave a warning scowl to his sister before standing to return to the stables, "Don't go letting your imagination get the better of you."

"Oh, of course not brother!"

TBC~

* * *

**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

**Notes**: It occurs to me I missed the obligatory disclaimer for the first chapter. Apologies. I wanted to finish up this next installment before I corrected that. Also, I'm not sure how fast I intend to have this story go. It will be rather long I figure, but given their ages I have the luxury of doing so. I also didn't want to do another update till I had Fenris in here, so yeay! I'll be having as much of him as I can in future chapters as he is a main character in this story.

Also, Anitra is Leto and Varania's mother. There was no name given to her in the game and nothing I could find about her mentioned anywhere online. Since I have nothing to go on with her other then what I make up this makes her a (sorta) OC.

Anyhow, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy what follows!


	3. Chapter 3: Assumptions

**A Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter 3**

**Assumptions**

* * *

A small cry was the first thing that woke Marian. The following sound, the creak of her door, was not unexpected. The raven haired girl pulled up her blanket without even opening her eyes. A small, shivering, form entered under her covers. Once the shifting had stopped, Marian looped her arm around the smaller figure. Her eyes felt too heavy to lift, so she simply wrapped her one arm around the shape she knew belonged to her sister. Her hand attempted, in its stupefied state, to rub Bethany's shivering back. A wet face pushed into her neck, causing her to wince at the unpleasantly cold sensation. Marian tried to voice the words of reassurance that were playing in her head, but they were near inaudible.

"...they're everywhere." Marian vaguely heard her sister's whispered echoing remembrance of the nightmare that had taken her from her bed.

Marian woke early the next morning, a lone bird chirping near her window. If it had only been the bird that woke her, she thought as she sighed. Her sister's elbow was shoved neatly into her eye. Shifting slowly, Marian slipped away from the entanglement of limbs and joints under her covers. Bethany was sleeping heavily, and didn't even seem to be aware that her sleeping partner had fled.

Pouring water into the bowl near the window stand, Marian frowned. They had stayed in the home of Messere Dolan's for nearly a week, and it was only for the first two days that Marian had kept a bed to herself. Bethany had nightmares sometimes. Sure, they all did. Her crawling up to Marian and seeking her sister's protection wasn't new. However, she'd never had so many so consistently. Splashing the water around her face, the elder Hawke girl tried to wash the sleeping fog from her eyes. She glanced back to her bed as she grabbed a towel that rested on the nightstand.

She had not told her father about this. He had been busy trying to secure some form of employment in the city, in addition to searching for a home. He'd left earlier every day and was coming home late every evening. She could tell her mother, but she dreaded doing so. Their mother was in a state of precarious bliss and worry all at once. Marian knew she was concerned for their father, yet, at the same time, was overjoyed to finally have the option to set up roots somewhere. Marian clenched the towel in her hands. Her mother deserved a chance to enjoy some peace. If it were only her dealing with nightmares, and not Bethany, that would be one thing. Bethany was her mother's 'little girl'. Mother would fret over this. Silently she decided that she would handle this, as a plan started to form in her head.

Stripping off the night gown, Marian examined the wardrobe in her room. Messere Dolan had ordered a rush commission on two gowns for both the girls and a pair of jackets and breaches for Carver. The clothing Marian found, while fine, was not to her liking. One gown was a deep purple, with black spider web lace, and silver trim. The second was just as lovely, but an ebony that shone of pale blues in the light. The colors of Tevinter nobility were most assuredly the lack there of. Black was the preferred fashion of their new home, and it made everything so droll. Shoving the dresses to the side, Marian picked up her navy robes that she had worn on their travels to get to Tevinter. It was the last set she owned that had survived enough to still be worn. Her mother had seen it received a good patching on the thread barren parts, leaving it more than presentable in Marian's mind. Putting on her Ferelden cloths, she wove the red ribbon her father had given her into a braid in her hair as she left her sister to sleep the morning away.

Making her way by the kitchens, the smells of baking bread tickled at her nose. Peaking her head into the large kitchen, she hoped to spy some form of already cooked rolls cooling unobserved for her to steal. Alas, she spotted the cooling bread on the table where Anitra and her daughter were dividing up berries into two large bowls. The elf girl, who she knew to by the name Varania, gave a fully heartfelt and welcoming grin when she saw Marian. Her slender hand giving a happy wave at the foreign girl who was so similar in age. Marian smiled, and returned the effervescent wave with a small one of her own.

"What can I do for you Messere?" Anitra bowed her head, but not before Marian saw the frown she was shooting Varania.

"No, nothing," Marian offered as sweetly as she could. It was in a vain hope of placate whatever disapproval Anitra saw in her daughter's reaction to her. To Marian's confused joy, the young elf had taken an interest in her.

Varania had introduced herself while the elder Hawke was naked and stepping out of her tube. Not that she minded anyone saying 'hello', or telling her their name, but the greeting was fairly unexpected. She had slipped at the sudden entrance, her hand sliding off the edge of the metal tub and she had landed squarely on her face. More like her nose. The bloody nose was short lived, thankfully, but not before Marian was promised most fervently by Anitra that her daughter would be brought to task for injuring a guest of their Master. By the end of it, Marian was pleading, no, begging, Anitra to forgive her daughter.

Marian could tell that Anitra did not care for her. That, or she did not care for her daughter being so openly friendly toward her. It bothered Marian, but she did not know if this were a personal issue between here and Anitra, if she had offended the crimson haired elf somehow, or if this was because they were slaves and she was not. Trying to keep her thoughts from her eyes, Marian nodded a small bow and disappeared to her sanctuary.

It wasn't _her_ sanctuary per say. Nothing in this house was hers. Her small fingers unconsciously tugged at the hem of her Ferelden robes. A rueful smile played at her lips as she pushed the door to the library open. She knew where to look for books on herb lore. Artamus had taken to showing her how the books were organized by the third night when he caught her hiding away from the rest of the house. It wasn't that Marian was shy, thought that is what he seemed to think. She was tired. She needed a break from being the responsible one for a little while.

For how long that while would be, she did not know. Sighing, she selected a book with a promising title, _Everyday Potions_. The book contained pictures of the herbs in the first half of the book, and the second half contained recipes. Flipping through the book she did not find what she wanted right away. Somehow, even though she was trying to avoid the responsibilities her mother and father counted on her for, she was doing them now of her own accord. Climbing up to the second level, she flopped down into the chair by the window. It had become her favorite spot.

The window near the chair provided a good view of the gate entrance, and allowed her to keep tabs on her father's comings and goings. However, besides keeping tabs on her family, it also gave a good view of the horizon. The city slopped down from where they were, and the natural hill of the city made the view of the port and the ships visible from every area in the city. Minus maybe those who were actually living in the slums of the port, she supposed. A soft melody caught Marian's ear, and she knew the source before she even looked down. Varania was in the garden below, a bowl of roots in her lap she was peeling away at.

Usually, no one was in the green garden below, save but two figures. One, the elf girl Varania. The second was the male elf who would often accompany her. He had blood red hair and tan skin, though that was as much as Marian was able to discern from her lofty perch. She'd never met the elf who often joined Varania in the garden while she did her morning chores. Today he had a sack he dropped by Varania's feet. Kneeling down he opened up sack and was handing Varania more vegetables for her bowl. If he spoke, Marian couldn't tell. Varania's song was drowning out any sounds. Though, she suspected, even without the music, she would be unable to identify anything he said regardless.

"Maybe a brother?" Marian guessed as she tilted her head to the side, her eyes trying to get a better look at the elf she'd yet to meet. Both Varania and her mother shared that same blood red color in their hair, and this boy seemed have the same shade as well.

"I've wondered what had you out of bed so early these days," Malcolm's voice broke behind her, causing the girl to jump in fright, her hands instinctively raised for defensive casting, but halted when she identified her father.

"Maker, don't do that to me!" Marian breathed, putting a hand over her rapidly beating heart. Malcolm put a large hand over head, patting it softly.

"Sorry there, Sparrow," He smiled down at his girl, before returning his gaze out the window again. "It's not polite to stare at people though," He said, a disapproving frown pulling at his lips.

"I don't think they've noticed," Marian remarked lamely, closing the book in her hands. "If they have, they don't seem to care."

"Doesn't make it right, Marian," Malcolm gave her a stern look, but she frowned at him in return.

Marian had a retort biting on the edge of her tongue, but she held it in check. There were things she wanted to do, and drawing her father's attention her direction would not do. "Do you intend to go out again today?" Marian asked, knowing the answer already.

"Yes," Malcolm nodded, glancing down at his attire. He was dressed with in a traveling jacket and satchel. "Don't tell your mother yet, I dare not get her hopes up, but I may have found a benefactor."

"Oh?"

"Yes, but," Malcolm shrugged his shoulders, "he has not agreed yet. Though, I'm sure I've proven my skills are more then adequate for the job. Anyways, care to wish me some luck?"

"You don't need it," Marian quirked a cocky smile at her father, who laughed. Dropping a hand to her head, she grimaced as he ruffled her hair. Running a hand over the laced ribbon, to smooth it back, Malcolm laughed again.

"I'll have to stop doing that I suppose. You're getting to big for it!" Malcolm instead patted her lightly on the head.

"Messere Hawke," Anitra's voice quietly called from the entrance to the library, "The carriage is ready."

"Aye," Malcolm nodded, calling back to the elf as he turned to descend the ladder to the lower level. "Keep an eye on everyone for me?" He asked, though he did not slow he exodus from the room.

"Of course," Marian said, aware that he wasn't even waiting for a response. When he left, Marian looked down at the book in her hands. "Always do," she mumbled to herself as she opened to the book once more, but her eyes could not stay on the page. Instead she went to the window. She watched, and waited for the sound of the carriage's wheels to rumble down the cobble path, through the gate, and onto the city street.

Aware that no song other then the chirping of birds lingered in the background, Marian looked down to the fountain. Varania was not there, the bowl and sack the only lingering traces of her presence. However, the red haired elf boy was still there, and he wasn't alone. Three of the house guards, the Dolan crest evident on their bracers, were circled about the elf. To what was being said, she had no idea, but the elf went off toward stables, and the guards followed close behind.

It could have been the rigid way the elf was holding himself, or the fact that the guards had their hands placed upon the hilts of their weapons. For whatever the reason, something caused a sudden sensation of dread to pool in Marian's stomach. Dropping the book she rushed down the ladder, nearly tripping on the hem of her robes as she ran out of the library.

When she hit the grounds, they were already gone. Looking past the trees, to the far side of the grounds lay the stables. She could see the door was still open ajar. Her heart sank, in a moment, uncertainty trickling through. A trap? Her years of trained senses yelled this, yet she knew that this was not the case. They did not _know_ she watched them. Shaking her head, she set her face with hard determination and took off in a run to the stables.

These elves were slaves. Her father once told her about slaves, and how they could be treated by their masters. Slaves could even be killed in Tevinter, because they were viewed as property. Maybe it was the stories her father had told her that caused her to rush out to the stables, or it could have been her trained intuition that read the movement's of the house guards as a threat. In either case, when she arrived, rushing through the heavy weathered doors of the stable, she was not surprised to see the guards once more encircling the elf.

Two guards had their swords in their hands, advancing on the lone elf. He was crouched, defensively, his hands held up in front of him as he tried to keep the third from circling behind his back. The next few seconds were a blur, happening fast and slow at the same time. The two guards lunged, the elf nimbly ducked and turned on his heel, avoiding the first blow.

Marian slammed her hands upon the ground.

She wasn't consciously aware she was pulling magic into her being before she entered the stables, but she must have been. The cast was instantaneous and infused with surging power. The earth jumped, coming to life in a rumbled roar. The earthen floor of the stables dropped out from under the three guardsmen's feet, and at the same time, it grasped about the very shocked men's legs. Earth and stone shaped hands gripped about their calves, holding the guards precariously mid attack.

They all looked terrified, even the elf's eyes were wide in horror. The four, the guards and the elf, shared a quick, bewildered glance. Then, as if on cue, they all turned their eyes to the stable doors. Marian shook some of the dust free from her bangs as she raised partially to her feet. The corner of her mouth pulled into a threatening sneer, only to pause as the threat she had on her tongue languished and died there. She blinked twice, frowning, as she realized she was about to say something in common tongue to guards who may have only spoken Arcanum. "Damn it," She cursed under her breath, which caused the armored men who were still rooted firmly to the earth to flinch visibly. They had no idea if she would be finishing the job, and that was the point she had wanted to drive home to them, but she had not learned the proper way to word a threat in all those books she had studied.

"_Get out_!" She snapped in Arcanum, agitated nearly as much with the guards as she was with herself. Dropping to her knees, she gripped her hands into the dirt. As she dug her fingers in, the earth shook once more, though instead of a roar, it sounded like a deep yawn as the hands about the three guardsmen's calves crumbled and broke away.

Two of the guards took off instantly, with one standing back, giving the elf a hesitant look. When it looked like he might actually not leave, Marian snapped her fingers, summoning bright sparks of silver energy to crackle and hum as she held them up in front of her. Whatever had caused his delay was now gone, and he ran from the stables as well, a yelping cry announcing his acquiescence to the request.

"Whew," Marian breathed out when they had gone, "Well, I may have to have a talk with father about his 'friend's' guards." She turned her honey colored eyes to the elf, who was looking very confused at her. This was the first time she'd seen his eyes, and now she was sure he was related to Varania. His eyes were the deepest moss green she'd seen, she couldn't help but think, as she raised her hand out to the elf. "Hi. I'm Marian," She offered what she hopped looked like a sincere smile. The elf quirked a thick dark red brow at her, his forest green eyes going hard as emeralds as he eyed her suspiciously.

"I'm Marian Hawke," She tried again. Though she had been studying the language, racking her brain for the words she wanted seemed fruitless in this moment. "I hope... You are... good?" She scratched her head trying to physically pull the words she needed out. "Not bad? Not Ill? Um," Cursing she shook her head, slipping into her birth tongue she added, "By Andraste's arse this is hard!"

"What do you want?" The elf asked in the dwarven common tongue, taking Marian aback as she blinked in surprise at the elf.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" She breathed in relief. "You speak common then?"

"I do, as do most. Still, I do not know what it is that you want," the elf actually sounded agitated. Not only that, he was literally scowling at her!

"Well, you could start off with a _'Thank you_', if it's not too much to ask," Marian huffed, placing her hands on her hips as she cocked her head at the strange elf. She wasn't sure she could believe what she was seeing, but... Was he glaring at her?

"Thank you?" He blinked, confusion stealing across his face, "And what, may I ask, should I thank you for?"

"I do believe I just saved you," Marian pointed an agitated finger out in the direction the guards had fled. "Three against one isn't exactly fair, so I figured you needed a hand." She tried to ignore the feeling that she was defending her actions to the person she just saved from a beating.

"They were helping me," The elf frowned, his shoulder's stiff but he bowed his head instead. "I will thank you for what you _think_ you have done. Please, Messere, do not concern yourself with a slave like me." The boy's words were hollow, not betraying any emotion.

"You like to be beaten?" She queried, her own anger and frustration rising to meet his monotone words.

"It was 'training' Serrah," Marian never knew it was possible to spit out the word Serrah, but here it was being done. It caught her off guard, then oddly made her lips quirk into a smile.

"I think I like you," Her smile deepened when it was answered with a fuming glare, the first emotion she'd elicited since he'd bowed his head. "I said my name was Marian. Marian Hawke. You do not need to call me Serrah. Especially if you use it like that. Makes it sound like a curse."

"Slaves do not call Masters by their names so informally, Serrah Hawke," He punctuated the Serrah once more with all the venom that could be put into a single word. Marian's head tipped back and a deep laugh came rolling out of her stomach.

"Oh, you must be related to Varania, I'm sure of it!" Marian's grin broadened when the elf looked like he had been slapped in the face. "Hey," She smiled warmly, "I meant it as a compliment. I rather like her attitude."

"Did you," The elf paused, turning his eyes about the ruined dirt floor around them, "come here for something? Or, is it your practice to get involved with everyone's privet affairs?"

"Well I came here to save you, obviously," Marian rolled her eyes at the question. "Well, I thought I was." She amended, sheepishly rubbing her head with her hand.

"I was not in danger," The elf walked over to one of the holes caused by Marian's magic, his toes tapping at the edges of the small pit.

"Well it didn't look that way!" The girl crossed her arms, her eyes also being drawn to the potholes now laying in the stable's floor. Rubbing a finger under her chin, the idea came to her for the first time that she may have just damaged their host's property. "I saw three armed guys marching you off to a secluded location. It could have been the scene of a highway robbery!"

He arched one brow at her, a look that begged the question, 'Are you serious?'

"I can fix it," Marian blushed, scratching her head as she kneeled near the pot hole. Using her hands, she began trying to redistribute the earth that now lay clumped around the holes in the ground.

"They are training me to fight," A much calmer, and much less synclinal voice said as the elf moved to join her. "They're doing me a favor. Though it is probably more accurate if I say they 'were' doing me a favor. I doubt they will be willing to help me after this." The elf gave a well placed scowl at Marian.

"You... Asked them to gang up on you?" Marian paused, clumps of dirt and rock in her hands as she skeptically raised her arms in the air.

"Indeed," The elf stood, stomping his bare feet down on the newly reformed floor. Marian, noticing the lack of shoes, and tried to make sure her own feet did not stomp on his as she joined him in tamping down the earth.

"Leto?"

Marian turned back at the door to see a pale and out of breath Varania come bursting through the door. When she saw the other elf, she breathed out a loud sigh and ran to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in close as she buried her head in his neck.

"Oh, brother, I was so worried! The guards told me they were attacked by a mage guest of the Master! Casting spells against them? In Master's house? How despicable! Oh, Mistress!" Varania turned to a deeply blushing Marian. The elf rushed to her, her hands doing a dance about Marian's frame. "Oh, Mistress, are you alright? You're covered in dirt! Where you here? Did you get hurt? I'll go fetch your mother~"

"Stop, please," Marian grasped the frantic elf's thin wrists in her dirty hands. "I'm fine. It was a mistake, on my part. Have the guards..." She bit her lip, wincing as she was afraid to ask, "Have they gone to Messere Dolan?"

"What? Varania blinked, confused, "N-no. They're just out in the courtyard yet. They didn't want to stray too far, because even though it was a guest of Master's... Messere Hawke?" Varania gasped suddenly, her hands flying to her parted lips. "Messere Hawke, _you_ are the mage?" The red hues of Varania's lips and face drained instantly, her eyes went wide and she collapsed to the floor. Marian moved to see if she was alright, but the desperate pleas from Varania stopped her midstride. "I beg your forgiveness Messere Hawke! I did not~ I did not mean to disrespect you. Please forgive my impertinence."

Marian blinked several times, a knot forming in her heart at the detracting plea. Sighing, she closed her eyes when she saw Varania tense as though preparing for a blow. She would be feared her as well then? Maybe not by other mages, but by non mages it would be the same everywhere it would seem. This was not truly a surprise for her, but Marian liked Varania. She was the first person to be open and unceremoniously friendly with her in this new land. Part of her was hoping they would be friends. Another part of her was busy reminding herself why that would not be possible.

"Don't do that," Marian shook her head, kneeling down before Varania and carefully resting her hands on the elf's shoulders. She ignored the flinch she caused, and very gently raised the girl to her feet. "It was impertinent of me, wasn't it?" She asked, turning her head to boy, to Leto, her eyes searching for a consensus.

"Very much so," Leto easily nodded, folding his arms across his chest. "Messere thought she was helping to save me from a beating at the hands of our house guards." His lips pulled into a half smirk, the smile going to his moss eyes. Marian's balanced wavered a second, as Varania dared to give an questioning look to her brother.

"But, that makes no sense. Why would our house guards beat up on you? They're rather fond of you actually."

"Speaking of," Marian turned her head, trying to keep her face away from the siblings, "I should go apologize to them. Sorry again," Marian bowed her head, before dipping out of the stables. Releasing a breath she hadn't known she was holding, the young Hawke quickly walked away from the stables to where the small trio of guards stood. They were looking at one another, their hands twitching to go to their blades and their legs looked to take them on flight once more.

"_I'm sorry_," Marian tried to speak Arcanum to the guards, "_Bad understanding_?" They spoke quickly amongst themselves, and Marian didn't understand what they said, but one of them, the last one to leave the stables when she attacked them, gave her a nod.

"I understand," He said, in the common tongue, causing Marian's existing blush to spread even farther across her face. "You will not be casting spells upon us again then, I may presume?"

"Oh, Maker, no!" Marian breathed out, relaxing into her native tongue. The guards gave a hesitant nod, as she continued with a drawn out apology. She wasn't sure half the things she said, but what it came down to was a million ways to say 'sorry'. When they left, she sighed, rubbing a hand over her now firmly burning face. Deciding it was best to disappear once again, she snuck her way back into the library, pulling the book up to her lap again, but this time did not look out the window.

It wasn't until three books later that someone disturbed her study, and it was none other than Varania. Marian glanced up from her book at the sound of the door opening to the library, her eyes finding the elf carrying a silver tray which she placed upon the table that was centered in the first floor of the room.

"You missed your breakfast, Serrah," Varania whispered, her eyes not looking up to where Marian sat on the second floor.

"Thank you," Marian smiled, rubbing her hands over her eyes as she closed her book. Climbing down the ladder, she settled into one of the chairs about the small table.

"Is there anything else I can get for you Serrah?" Varania asked, her green eyes focused still on the floor. Marian paused, her eyes evaluating her plate. She had a fork, a knife, a cup filled with water, a plate of steamed root vegetables, bread, and berries with cream. Her brow raised as she looked at all the food, an idea popping into her head.

"Have you any Elf Root in the kitchens?"

"Uh, well, yes," Varania fidgeted, her hands clasped together in front of her skirt.

"How about Andraste's Grace?"

"We have a few in the garden."

"Wouldn't happen to have any Lifestones laying about, would you?"

"Messere~" Varania dared to glance up at Marian who was ignoring her plate and giving the red haired elf her full attention.

"Please, call me Marian, or Hawke. Everyone always ends up calling me Hawke," She smiled at the elf who seemed uncertain if she was suppose to look at the ground or at Marian's face.

"I do not know if we have such a thing," Varania blushed, her eyes deciding to stay on Marian's face.

"Shame," Marian shook her head, picking up the roll on her plate and tearing a chunk out with her teeth.

"Master Dolan might know about such a thing."

"I would rather not involve anyone else in this," Marian gave a meaningful glance to Varania. "I am in need of a sleeping potion. Specifically a dreamless sleep potion. Something for nightmares," She admitted the last when she saw the unspoken fears filtering across the elf's face.

"N-nightmares?" Varania whispered, frowning in thought as Marian nodded.

"Yes," Marian said, leaning over her plate toward the elf as she scooted the chair beside her out, motioning for the red haired girl to join her. Varania looked perplexed, but at Marian's insistence she took the seat near the mage. "May I confide something with you?" She leaned near Varania, who looked as though she would jump out of her skin at the proximity. "My sister has bad dreams sometimes. They've been constant, these few days, and I want to give her some dreamless sleep potion. Considering how much my parents have gone through, I'd rather not worry them over it, and a little potion could make my sister's nights more restful." And mine as well, she silently amended.

Varania had calmed some when she listened to Marian. Her mouth making an understanding 'Oh', when she mentioned her reasons for keeping it from her parents. "Nightmares can be bad here." Varania nodded, putting a finger to her lips. "I know where there's an alchemist shop in town. He may have what you need, if he doesn't already have some brewed up. If you give me a list I could fetch it for you when I go into town."

"Really?" Marian breathed in relief. Partially because Varania offered the solution to her problem, and partially because through the course of the discussion the fear that had taken her over at learning that Marian was a mage seemed to dissipate some. For now, at least.

"Aye, Messere," Varania nodded, a small smile returning the beaming one she was recieving.

"Are you going into town today?"

"Aye, Messere, I was about to head out after brining you your meal."

"I'll come with you," Marian stood, shoving the rest of the roll inside her mouth and chugging down the water from the glass just as quickly.

"I don't~"

"Don't worry," Marian coughed, knocking her fist to her chest as the roll stuck some on the way down. "I won't be a bother. Besides, I want to learn where this shop is. This may not be the only time I will require such a poultice." Varania looked to question again, but she also had a torn look of confusion on her face. She shouldn't question a guest of her Master, but then again would she be in trouble for taking the girl into town?

"I don't know if your mother would approve," Varania kept her fingers to her lips, her green eyes wide as she sat between a rock and a hard place.

"My mother, if she notices I am gone," Marian said, "will scold me, but nothing else. If she does even that. I am old enough to leave her side. If you would rather not go with me," She considered Varania, cocking her head to the side, "I can go by myself. If you would but give me the directions. I'm not sure I can find my way otherwise."

"No! You mustn't go into the market by yourself Messere!" Varania balked at the idea, shaking her head as she quickly stood. "I would be happy to go with you. Please, let me gather my basket and shawl and I will accompany you."

"Great!" Marian nodded, "I'll get my cloak and see you by the gate?"

Varania hesitated for a moment, but gave a nod. She picked up the tray from the table before heading out. Marian made her way to her room, pulling out a hooded traveling cape from the wardrobe. Well worn indeed, but still perfect for a trip into the market.

"Where are you going?" Marian stiffened at accusing voice that called from the door to her room.

"I'll be back soon, Carver. I need to pick up something from the market." Clasping the cape, she lifted the hood.

"I'm going too," Carver stated flatly, but Marian turned, shaking her head 'no' before he even made the declaration.

"Carver, you need to stay with Bethany and Mother," She said, rather diplomatically even though she was feeling rather frustrated. "I will not be gone for long, and you would not like where I'm going anyways. I need a few herbs is all."

"I don't believe you," Carver frowned crossing his arms, but he didn't sound as though he fully believed his own accusation.

"No, Carver," Marian stated flatly, leaving no room for argument. That usually did not stop her brother, but she gave him 'that' look. He growled, huffed, and cursed at her, but he left her after that. It took a few moments for her face to soften some from the hard expression it had assumed. She did not like that she could communicate as such with her brother.

He was head strong, to be sure, but a good boy. He was a regular pain in her ass as well. Always he questioned her, always he tried to fight over the littlest things. He knew though, when she gave him 'that' look, that it was serious. That things were dire, and if he did not do as she said then something would go horribly wrong. No child should be able to read that in another's face, and then follow it. It didn't seem right. Straightening her robes, she headed out of the house, slipping past the kitchens and the library. Her fingers played with the few coins that lay in her pocket. She hoped it would be enough.

When she came to the gate Varania was already there. What Marian did not expect was to see Leto standing beside her, a thick staff resting over his shoulders. He was talking to two guards by the gate, two of whom the young Hawke now recognized as being part of the group she had rooted to the ground earlier.

"Leto always comes with me when I buy things," Varania explained, following Marian's questioning gaze.

"Ah, well, the more the merrier, right?" Marian gave a dubious grin. She just sent her own brother off and now she was getting Varania's. The look she was getting from this Leto didn't seem to vary too much from the one Carver had given her a few moments before either.

"Let's go," Leto said flatly, swinging the staff over his shoulders as he lead the way down the cobbled street into the market's of Minrathous.

TBC~

* * *

**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

Author's Note: Sorry this took a bit longer then I thought. Finals and all. Good news is that I should be able to have another chapter up much sooner though. As to the question if this story will follow if they will grow up together, yeah, sorta. The plot, which I do have I swear, will focus highly on how Leto/Fenris and Marian develop into the people they will become. Since it is an AU and a prequel I wouldn't place any bets on how that goes. Anyways, hope you enjoyed and I will try to be faster on the next update!


	4. Chapter 4: In the Air

**A Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter 4**

**In the Air**

* * *

Marian knew the city was huge, she had seen it from the wagon and from the window of the Dolan estate. Being in the streets themselves was another story entirely! She never felt small anywhere she went before. The buildings stood tall, thin, and had pointed arches. Even though they were built taller than the shorter buildings of the villages in Ferelden, Marian doubted it was just he architecture that made her feel small. The people around her did. The Qunari towered over all, their pale skin, in addition to their white hair and spiked horns set them easily apart from the rest of the people that milled about Minrathous' Trade District.

In addition to the small bands of Qunari that stalked about, there were the humans and even some elves that also made Marian feel small. Then there were those who marched down the streets, their heads held high, their chins lifted up as they strode through the market. They were mages. Marian could tell not only from their garb, or the long, ornate staves they carried, but she could feel it radiating off of them. It was strange to feel so many mages letting their magic swirl about themselves like a badge of honor. Though part of her envied them, and wondered if she too would so boldly stride around town one day like she owned the place, it also felt wrong. Her nose crunched up in disgust as one woman with lavender robes and amethyst eyes strode past her.

"That smell," She murmured under her breath. Like a metallic smell that lingered on the edge of her senses. Even the smell of the sea couldn't hide the scent of... What was it?

"Excuse me?!" Marian turned to look at the woman who had just passed her. She waved a hand dismissingly at the dark haired girl.

"Nothing," Marian lied as she smiled at the woman.

The girl gave Marian a look that caused the young Hawke to unconsciously pull her hands up closer to her chest. She could feel the magic radiating off the girl, her eyes hauntingly vivid as she took in the sight of Marian.

"Messere," Varania called, her hand grasping Marian's arm as she tugged on the Ferelden girl. "You need to stay close, don't get lost in the crowd!"

"Of course, sorry," Marian said as she glanced down a Varania. When she returned her gaze back to the girl with dangerously gleaming lavender eyes, she found the girl was gone. Frowning, she let herself be pulled by the red haired elf into a shop a nearby.

Leto stood by the door of the shop, waiting for them to enter, his staff held in one hand as he watched the crowd around them. Marian was surprised to find that she was glad he was here. He looked calm, and alert at the same time. It was strange in a way she realized, as she entered the shop that smelled pungently of cloves and cinnamon, that that was often how she looked when she traveled with her family.

To maintain an ever vigilant eye.

It was hard to admit it, but she was overwhelmed with the sights of the city. Every where she turned something new to distract her. It wasn't long until she caught Leto trailing about her. He was giving her not so well guarded annoyed glares. Whenever she caught sight of him, she would return her attention to following Varania and not the dancing globes being sold by one shop keeper, or the mechanical contraption being touted by a burly dwarf as one of the 'Finest pieces to come from the depths of the Deep Roads'.

She was dressed like a foreigner, and looked the part of a perfect mark for any pickpocket and she _knew_ it. She constantly found her fingers sliding into her robes to make sure her coins were still inside their leather purse. She was grateful then when she was inside the alchemist's shop, and the cool metal still greeted the tips of her ever seeking fingers.

"Go'day, my lovelies!" Came a chipper greeting from a very stout woman, who leaned an ample bosom over the counter. Marian couldn't help but admire this sales pitch she offered via a simple greeting. If only she were so endowed she could no doubt procure a good shop keeps job back in Ferelden. This woman though was not Ferelden. She may have been Rivaini. She had dark skin and her darker hair was kept in a tight braid about her head. Her ice blue eyes and white pearly smile were a bright contrast with the rest of her darker features.

"Good day, Mistress Lillian," Varania walked up to the counter, handing a list over to the woman. She smiled, took the list, but her eyes only glanced at the order of goods written on the parchment. "Is your husband not about to tend his shop?"

"He's out picking up some sandwiches for lunch from Natalie's. Who's this fine one?" Lillian queried, her eyes taking in Marian. "Oh, she's a cute one! Dolan sure can pick some pretty little slaves."

"My name is Marian," the young Hawke said coolly as she strode up to the counter, her amber eyes flashing with an un-natural light, "and I belong to no one."

"Oh, forgive me, Serrah," Lillian gave a sheepish smile, a faint blush tinting her dark cheeks. "Well, Marian, what would you have of my shop this fine day?"

"I'm in need of the ingredients for a Dreamless Sleep potion, or I would be willing to buy some if you should have any. For the right price, that is." She amended the last statement, her fingers reaching into her pocket to mentally count her coins yet again.

"Oh I have that," Lillian nodded sagely. "Also, my husband make the stuff in bulk, so you can trust me when I say we've got the best prices in town."

"You make it in bulk?" Marian asked, her brow quirking up skeptically. "Dare I ask why you would do that? The potion can only keep for a week at best."

"Aye, indeed you are correct. You are an herbalist there, are ye' not?" She didn't wait for Marian's nod before she motioned with a 'come hither' finger to Marian. Looking to Varania for any hidden expression of apprehension and finding non, Marian followed herbalist. Reaching one of the cupboards that lined the far wall, Lillian opened up the cupboard to reveal over thirty frost tinted bottles with a milky white fluid inside.

"So many?"

"Nightmares can be a problem here, Serrah," The woman nodded as she scooped up a bottle. "The light is what gives the potion it's short shelf life, we've found. We store all our bottles in frosted glass and in a dark cupboard to keep them safe from the sun." She handed the bottle to Marian who looked very much confused and disturbed as she held the cool glass in her hand. "That will last you a month. Two drops right before bed, and ye'r dreams will not come."

"Nightmares are a problem here," Marian frowned, her eyes going to Varania. "You said the same thing to me."

"That will be fifteen bits. I'll give it to ya' for half price cause I have an urge to see you back," The girl winked at Marian, her eyes dancing over to the door were another customer entered. The shop keep gave another honeyed greeting as Marian fished the copper coins from her purse.

Marian stood in the back of the shop as Varania was being helped. Her fingers held the vial as she tipped it first to the right then the left. Deciding on something, she shoved the potion into her robes, finding Leto she moved up beside the elf. Varania was still with Lillian who filled the girl's basket with a collection of herbs and spices being drawn up on Messere Dolan's tab.

"What do they mean, 'Nightmares are a problem here'?" Marian asked Leto, her voice lowered to not draw the attention of the customer who rummaged through the potions on the shelf on the far wall.

"I would wager they mean nightmares are unpleasant." His feet shifted slightly, his eyes darting to where Marian had pocketed the vial.

"What?" She asked when she could practically see the thought bubble dangling over his head.

"If I may, would you let me ask you something?" He hesitated, his eyes finding the floor rather interesting.

"Well, yeah," Marian's brow pushed up higher under her dark bangs. "I did say 'what'."

"You are having nightmares?"

"Me? Oh, no. Not me. My younger sister has them sometimes," Marian waved her hand dismissively which caused the strain across Leto's shoulder's to visibly relax some.

"That is good, then." He said, and she wanted to inquire more but at that moment Varania finished filling her order. The girl came up to them, smiling as she hefted her basket in her arms.

"I just need some fish for the stew tonight," Varania smiled as Marian held the door open for the girl as they left the store. Varania made her way through the crowd, Marian at her heels followed by Leto. The noon sun had drawn many from their homes into the stalls of the port town. When they descended a set of stairs, Marian felt her breath hitch in her throat. The great expanse of blue before her shimmered like diamonds.

"It's lovely," Marian murmured, still surprised she could find herself drawn to the smell and view of the ocean. They had crossed the waters from Ferelden, but she saw little of the blue water from within the bowels of the boat. Leto paused beside her, a look of confusion and annoyance at her halting crossing his face. "I've never seen water so blue. Like crystals," Marian blushed when her explanation only drew the elf's frown down farther.

While she rushed to hurry up to Varania, Marian failed to notice how Leto shot a warning glare over his shoulder. They'd been marked by several of the street urchins who had been circling the group shortly after hitting the Market Square. The Ferelden witch had nearly had her pockets picked three times already. Had he not circled about her, staring down the starved children who sought the foreigner's coins, she would have been picked clean by now. Sighing deeply as the last two scurried off, Leto gripped the heavy staff in his hand till his knuckles went white. Why did Varania have to bring this one along?

When Marian moved off away from them again, her eyes hypnotized with the shimmering blue waves in the distance off the ports, Leto let her go. He wouldn't allow his sister to be in danger because he was babysitting this human girl.

Marian was near the docks, watching the endless stream of goods and people come and go. She was in slack jawed amazement when suddenly she paused, her eyes catching on several young elves leaving one of the ships. They were no older then Bethany, and one girl, as if to help her reference her sister, had the same dark hair and blue eyes as her sister. There were five of the young elves, all chained together, as they existed one of the ships. Suddenly one of them, the Bethany mimic, slipped and fell on the wet pier. An armored man that was walking beside them stopped the line of chained children. He walked back to the 'Bethany' elf, but, instead of helping her to her feet, his boot slammed into her side.

Marian felt the air around her crackle instantly, her mouth parted into a slew of Ferelden curses as she lunged forward. Reaching down she scooped up a black stone off the ground. Bringing it to her mouth, she spat one more curse into her hand before she drew her arm back to toss, pulling taunt to toss the stone at the slaver. However, something strong gripped her wrist, holding back her throw. She turned energy laced eyes down on the offending appendage to find a large, heavy glove gripped about her wrist.

"Easy now," the owner's deep baritone voice calmed quietly, his own brown eyes focusing on the scene below. "You can't attack slavers. Not here in Tevinter." Marian huffed, growling in her throat as she turned away from the dwarf who had placed the offending grip on her arm. She jerked her arm back, the stone still clenched firmly in her fingers. The slaver was father away then a normal throw would have allowed, but where magic helped she knew she could still hit him across his brutish head. She felt the red in her vision falter as the elf stood, the chains clinking loudly as the bound children continued down the pier.

"Why?!" Marian turned her young eyes upon the dwarf. Her own anger at herself mixing with the rage she felt for the slaver. The dwarf, strangely beardless, with honey colored hair tipped his chin to the side, his eyes doing a quick dance off to her left. Marian turned to find a group of five Tevinter guards standing at attention near the house where the slave girls headed. Their shining ebony armor glowed with magic, their keen eyes were focused on the crowd about the docks. At least two of them, Marian noticed, had turned their frost blue eyes to her. "Void take them!" Marian cursed, turning away and pulling her hood back over her head.

"When you make such a loud scene you're destined to draw attention," The dwarf offered a small smile. "Besides," He finally released her wrist, using his hand to gesture to her cloths, "you stand out as a foreigner here, Little Lady."

"As do most, I assume," Marian huffed, crossing her arms about her chest. "This is a port town. Many people come and go who don't pay homage to the fashions of Minrathous. Yourself included, Serrah Dwarf." He was wearing a heavy leather duster, a deep crimson tunic and leather breaches. An ornate crossbow was strapped to his back, but the sword marks across it's stalk attested to its seeing use in battle.

The dwarf let out a chuckle, his brown eyes flashing Marian a winning smile. "Well, what can I say. I've got taste!" Marian smiled a little, though she kept her eyes on the large building being guarded on the docks. "Don't try and get yourself tangled up in the slave trade here." The dwarf warned her again, "You're a pretty enough thing, and a foreigner. Unless you've a benefactor here in the city, you could find yourself on the other end of one of those collars."

"What, pray, makes you think I'd get involved in this city's affairs?" Marian scoffed, though she was trying to work out the layout of the building in her mind.

"You have that look about you," the dwarf stated, before he reached up and turned the girl's face toward his own. "Defiant. It's in your eyes." Marian was too surprised by his boldness. Her hand holding the stone unclenched and it tumbled to the ground with a thump. She hadn't expected him to grab her by the chin, nor to bring her face right to his. She felt a heat tingling and climbing up her neck and starting to fill her cheeks. Her eyes went wide as saucers when she realized she was turning red at being caught off guard.

"Messere Hawke." Another deep voice, though younger then the dwarf's, sliced through the staring contest of the dwarf and Marian. "Dwarf," Leto coldly paced up to the two, his hands securing their grip about his staff as he came within striking distance of the dwarf, "you are overstepping your bounds."

"Ha!" The dwarf let go of Marian, an even bigger smile on his face as he took in Leto's stoic demeanor. "Well, I'll be. Don't worry, Pup," the dwarf smiled as he raised a hand to his hip, easily showing off a dagger strapped to his side. "I had no intention of offended the little lady. Lady Hawke, is it?" The dwarf gave the girl a very curious glance, a spark of something lighting behind his eyes. "Name's Varric," the dwarf offered an answer to an unasked question. When he raised his hand to Marian she hesitated, but she was about to take it before a certain tanned and dark crimson haired elf stepped between the two.

"Let us go, Messere Hawke," Leto raised his arm to usher her along and away from the dwarf. "You're family is awaiting you."

"Yeah, don't keep the family waiting," Marian heard the dwarf say. She looked back as Leto pushed her, and a confused Varania away from the docks. The dwarf, Varric, watched her go with that same curious glint of amusement in his eye. Just as she left sight of the docks, he reached down and picked up the black stone she had dropped. "Well, I'll be a nug's uncle..."

"Do not talk to strange dwarves." It was a command, not a request. Marian frowned, biting her bottom lip as she fought to hold back the retort. "Do not look so foreign either, if you can manage it. It draws too much attention. Also, stop checking your coin purse as well, it's like putting a sign on your robes that says, 'Please pick this pocket here'."

"Are you quiet finished?" Marian hissed back at the elf who was commanding her like she was a child when he was not much older than herself. "The dwarf talked to _me_, not the other way around. I _am_ foreign and nothing will hide that, and...," Marian turned her head, finding the ally's they passed far more interesting then the elf who had taken lead, "I know about my purse. I'll try to keep my fingers from fidgeting."

"Well, for all our sakes, please put more effort into it then just '_try'_!" Leto spat back, ducking the group down a street that paralleled the main street.

"Leto~!" Varania was breathing heavily trying to keep up with her brother's pace, but she took the breath to admonish her brother who, to her relief and shock, stopped. He turned anger filled eyes on the two girls with him.

"What, Varania? It's not like the streets aren't dangerous enough without dragging her into them. Let her family take her out if she needs something," Leto turned his agitated green eyes upon Hawke. "Why travel with elves, slaves at that, anyways? You should stick to your own sphere, Ferelden Witch, and leave my sister alone!"

Marian flinched, blinking like she'd just been slapped. Leto cursed something, turning to continue up the road that lead to Dolan's estate. Varania turned her own green eyes down to Marian, sad and scared all at once. How did someone shot you a scared apology? Shaking her head, Marian bit her tongue, hard, until she tasted a trickle of copper in her mouth.

Friends were never an easy thing for her. She had acquaintances, not friends. Her father's words from that morning rang in her head again. 'It's not right, Marian.' He knew, she guessed, before even she did. Don't go making friends with the slaves, right? As she walked behind the two thin figures, she understood that she had overstepped her bounds, that it was her fault, but another realization came to her then as well.

She wasn't going to change.

What did they all expect of her? To treat people like slaves? To be in a higher station then the people around her? Even if her family line was descendant of the Nobles of Kirkwall, had her family not forsook that heritage when her mother married a mage?

When they returned in that uncomfortable silence Varania went to the kitchens, Leto returned to the stables, and Marian went to her lent room. Pulling out the vial, she set it on her nightstand. Stripping off the cloak, her amber eyes looked at herself in the mirror. Navy worn traveling robes that held the yellows and purples that added brightness to the robe. Frowning, she stripped out of the robe, finding the black dress in the armoire that has silver lace and held a deep sheen of blue in the silken fabric's depths.

Holding the robe up to herself, Marian frowned as she looked into the mirror.

Dolan's guest had returned in their absence, Leto realized when he saw the carriage returned to the stables and the two mares returned to their pens. The coach master barked at the young elf, ordering Leto to do what he already knew. Picking up a bucket he scooped feed into the feeding sacks before pulling them over the horses heads. His fingers ran down the strong creature's jaws, and each nuzzled him in return. Picking up the brush, he began to comb down the creatures as the coach master took to the kitchen to get something to eat. His eyes peered momentarily at the freshly re-laid dirt before taking his leave. It was better not to know things.

Leto was used to this pattern of his life. He'd cared for the animals since he was old enough to not be trampled under their hooves. When he plucked a bur from Falon, as he named her, he was careful not to tug harshly on her soft mane.

"You would never believe the day I've had, Falon." The horse munched on the grain, but gave turned ear and eye to the elf who raised his brows at her questioning look. "I'm serious. You missed it. Your floor was ruined," He gestured to the earthen stable floor that had recently been re-patched. Falon huffed, her tail whisking about her hind legs. "I hope you at least had a good day?" The creature leaned into him, shoving him playfully, making Leto laugh despite himself.

Marian caught her father looking at her during dinner, a queer, questioning look. Frowning, she redirected her attentions to the meal before her.

"I'm so glad you've decided to wear the cloths I had made," Artamus beamed at Marian, his kind eyes alight at the sight of Marian in 'proper' Tevinter clothing. "I had worried you did not like them."

"Oh, no, Messere," Leandra chimed in quickly, not wanting to risk whatever her daughter might say in reply. "We are all so grateful for your attentions. The gowns, all of them, are so very fine. I dare say Marian simply feels like she is dressing up more than normal."

"Is that the reason for the blush you've got hidden under those lashes?" Artamus gave a soft grin to Marian, who shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the comment.

"I don't feel like myself," Marian admitted, her eyes finding her soup very interesting at the moment.

"You do look weird." Carver commented between mouthfuls of his own stew.

"Carver," Leandra hissed, before returning her diplomatic smile to their host. "We, all of us, are very grateful for your kindness."

"Though, we may not need to trespass on it much longer" Malcolm spoke for the first time since he'd returned home.

"Non-sense! Malcolm you are as dear to me as my own brother. I will not have you speaking such things. You are all a much loved diversion from the tedium that has taken over my bachelor life. You and your family have been a blessing to me!"

"I have secured a benefactor," Malcolm continued, "I will have work soon. I'll look into lodgings in town soon as I have received my first wages."

"Now, I told you old boy, that I would be more than happy to help you get work in the courts. I know your skill, and you do no justice to yourself having them sold out to merchants and traders in the ports."

"In the ports?" Marian questioned, her eyes narrowing when her father returned her gaze.

"Aye, my darling Sparrow," Malcolm said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a smooth, black stone that he rubbed between his fingers. "I will be working down in the docks. An appraiser of sorts, if you will."

"You could do well as an appraiser working for the Magisters. I don't see why those water vipers need to have our goods evaluated before they'll buy them!"

"It only makes sense, Artamus," Malcolm turned his eyes back to his friend, but his fingers held the stone as he tapped it once into the table. Marian felt the colorful blush she'd been maintaining draining from her face. "Mages are hard to come by in Kirkwall unless you happen to have friends in the Templars. Not contracting out a Circle Mage will save them more than enough to cover my wages."

"Really Malcolm, I hope you realize that you are aiding those who are not Tevinter by taking this job."

"I'm only doing honest work, my friend," Malcolm's smile pulled softly on the corners of her beard.

"Bear in mind that you are going to become a citizen of this city eventually. Agh," Artamus groused, returning to his meal, "maybe you will see reason to advance yourself in society when that day comes."

"Maybe," Malcolm said, tapping the stone lightly onto the table once more. Marian sat through the rest of the meal without eating. Her throat was clenched tight. When her father bade her to join him in the garden after the dinner, she nodded.

When they were outside, and the had yet to rise over the city, Malcolm Hawke clenched his fingers about the stone, tossing it with all his strength into the stone wall that encompassed the estate. The stone was small, but the cracking sound produced was not. It hit the wall and exploded with unnatural ferocity. It splinted into sharp fragments, breaking a small indentation where it had impacted into the wall.

Malcolm looked at the spot, walking over to it and rubbing his fingers over the obvious damage made by the magically infused projectile. "Marian." His voice was rough, anger spilling into the usually calm tones.

"Father~"

"What?" He snapped at her, his face hard as he looked at her with a look she'd never seen before. He was disappointed. "What could you have possibly needed such a thing for?!"

"A slaver~"

"We are in the Imperium, child!" Malcolm snapped, not allowing her to speak, which was also something new for the young mage. "Slavers are everywhere. We do not need to like it, but it is legal. Attacking a slaver here is like attacking a blacksmith, or a baker. By the Maker, if you had thrown that at a man..." Malcolm turned his face away from his daughter as he brought his hands up to rub the skin about his eyes. "They are not bandits. You can not kill them."

"They are Slavers!" Marian spat back, her anger and hurt giving rise to her voice when her throat still felt weak. "It does not matter where they are. Just because it is legal here does not make it right!"

"Magic," Malcolm turned a stern eye to his daughter, "is legal here. This is our home now. I will not have you ruining our families chances here by getting us on the wrong side of the law!"

"Maybe this isn't the place for us then," Marian felt the tears building up in her eyes. Her father never treated her so coldly. Even though she had come close to attacking that man, she had not. He wouldn't even hear her reason why. How that elf looked so much like her sister, 'his' child that it made her heart race with fear when she saw the man attack her. How could this be right? How could he expect her to stand back and let such things happen?

She didn't expect it, so when the hand slapped her face, Marian felt more shock then pain. She blinked, amber eyes stared in shock at her father. "There is no place else."

Marian felt the tears spill over her cheeks then. Running from the hopeless and resigned words her father stated, she found that running did little good. Even as she reached her room, slamming the door behind herself she still heard the words repeat in her head.

'There is no place else~ _for people like us_.'

"Marian?" A small voice called softly and knocked at the door. Stifling the sobs in her throat, Marian took several shaky breaths before she could trust herself to speak.

"Y-yes, Bethany?"

"Marian, are you alright?" She could hear her sister slowly push her door open, could hear the sound as her soft slippers slowly approached her, hesitantly.

"Aye," Marian breathed out, quickly wiping her hand over her face to remove the marks of tears from her cheeks. When Bethany came into her view, she managed a smile, before turning to her nightstand. "I have something for you, Beth." Bethany didn't ask about the tears that her sister was obviously trying to hide, so she instead focused on the vial her sister held up in the air.

"What is it?"

"It will make your dreams... You won't have them," Marian frowned, pulling the dropper from the top of the vial as she poured a glass of water for her sister. Mixing in the drops, she handed the glass to Bethany. "No more nightmares tonight, alright?"

Bethany looked as if she doubted her sister's promise, but drank the fluid down. Marian made sure she finished the tincture before taking her sister back to her own room. Settling her sister into her bed, she ruffled Bethany's hair, pressing her forehead to her sister's and giving her the usual smile that said 'everything is alright'.

Once she blew out her sister's candle, she made her way back into her own room. Slipping into her nightgown, she looked into the mirror in her room. There was a small red mark on her face, but she doubted it would be there in the morning. Pulling back the soft covers, she slipped into the bed, her eyes staring out the window of her room.

It was dark, and a soft creaking sound pulled at the edge of her senses. The light of the moon illuminated her room in silver light, but even still she could barely open her eyes. A shift of her mattress, and Marian lifted her blanked, her arm held open wide until the small figure was pressed against her. A frown tugged at her lips, as she felt something strange. No, she smelled something strange. Lavender... and copper? Bethany smelled of the wind and grass. She unconsciously dipped her head down into the hair that tucked under her chin.

The frown deepened.

Bethany's hair felt courser, and not like the soft silk she knew it to be. A sharp pain stabbed into her side, and Marian's eyes flew open as she shoved back from the person wrapped about her. The blanket fell away, and she saw lavender eyes piercing out from under thick, black bangs. A purple painted mouth grinned up at her from under the silver light of the moon.

_"I've found you." _

TBC~

* * *

**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

Author's Note:

I have to keep doing research on the world so I hope that I'm not throwing things too far off. I know Varric was born in Kirkwall, but I actually have a reason for him being in Minrathous. Which I'll get to touch on in the next chapter, unless I get distracted with Leto... As for the red hair comment, I completely understand. I love Fenris with white hair personally, so picturing him as having the same hair as his sister is hard, but I think it fits with his skin and green eyes really well. I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed. It helps inspire me :) I'll try to have the next chapter up soon so as to no leave it off in such a way.


	5. Chapter 5: An Invitation

**A Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter 5**

**An Invitation**

* * *

The scream in her throat was held in place only by a practiced force of will. She awoke under the silvery light of the moon, her eyes darting to her side. Ripping the covers back she gasped when she saw the empty space beside her. Staggering to her feet, her fingers shook as she conjured a small flame to light the candle on the nightstand. Her reflection in the mirror was pale and sweaty. She looked liked how she felt; terrified.

Slowly, Marian slid a hand up her side, her fingers gripping at the nightgown, pulling it up until she could expose the flesh of her right side to the mirror. She knew it was there, but she needed to see it. A hand print. A pink mark laid across her ribs in the perfect shape of a human hand. Part of her took some comfort in this.

It was a human hand. She could easily see the outline that lay still fresh in her now bruising flesh. It wasn't much larger then her own. Could a demon make such a print? Dropping her robe down, she realized that she did not know. She should show her father. Even as she leaned forward to go to him, her feet held her planted firmly to the cold floor boards of her room. Her father... Two fingers gently caressed her cheek, tears threatening to spill when she remembered her last words with him.

He had struck her.

He had been angry with her. Disappointed. She'd never felt these things from him before. She was not afraid of being stuck by her father, even the slap he had given her left no residual mark other than the one across her psyche. She didn't know what to do, but she knew she did not want go to him. Pacing slowly about her room, she rubbed a hand over her bruised side.

Her mind kept racing to demons, but she did not think that is what this was. It _felt_ human. Her dream, if it was the fade or not, she was unsure. Though, was not the fade a place for demons to trick humans? Frowning, Marian sat on her bed, rubbing her hands into her scalp.

"Think, Marian, think!" Ordering herself, while helping to release some of the building tension, did not deliver any answers. She could wait, she reasoned. If a demon had become attracted to her in the fade, it would no doubt reveal itself in time. Her father had trained her to recognize a demon. She should be able to protect herself in her dreams.

"But if it's not a demon, then what?" The other possibility seemed so strange that she was unsure where it would lead. Sighing she put on a robe, slipping her feet into soft slippers. She couldn't sleep, not now, and she desperately wanted was to escape the sight of her bed. A cord in her heart snapped taunt as she turned away from the bed. She had thought it was Bethany.

Slipping across the hall, Marian crept into her sister's room. Bethany lay in her bed, her breath steady as she slept peacefully. Tugging the blankets back over sister's shoulders, Marian slowly crept out of her sister's room. Pausing in the hall, she glanced down at Carver's room. Sighing, she slowly crept to Carver's door, peaking her head into the darkness of his room. Carver was snoring, loudly. Closing the door, Marian held the handle a moment longer. She did not know what to do, but she did not want to return to her room.

The estate was so very dark in the middle of the night, Marian thought, as she kept her hand on the wall to help guide her as she walked toward the library. When she stubbed her toe for the second time, she cursed softly. Remembering where she was, and that magic was not an offence here, she brought up one of her hands near her lips. Blowing lightly into her hand, she caught the glowing swirl of light that came to the beaconing off her lips. Swirling it in her palm to condense the magic, she eventually released it to allow the orb to hover over her head. The hall was now lit with a cool blue light that followed her as she walked.

She was only just near the kitchens when she heard a muffled cry. Quickly, out of habit, Marian waved the light away into nothing, allowing the dark to consume her once more. A flicker of candle light grew under the kitchen door, leaving a thin rail of light to guide Marian's feet. There were whispers, and a deep voice resonated a soft curse that relaxed Marian, from the tight ball of nerves that had twisted inside her, when it washed over her.

Leto had cursed at her enough today that there was no way she wouldn't recognize it now.

However, now she was torn. She didn't know if she should continue on her way to the library, or check to see if everything was alright. Her entire day had been her putting her nose in everyone's business, for the lot of good it accomplished. Maybe she should just let them do as they would; continue as if she had not been scared awake in the middle of the night? Another curse and Marian took a resigned breath. That wasn't who she was.

Slowly she walked over to the kitchen, the door was slightly ajar as it was. She slipped in, bracing a hand on the door in case she would need to make a speedy exist when she heard Varania's voice fuming in aggravation. "Leto, you're such an idiot! Now hold still."

"Festus~ ouch!" Marian lost all inclination at secrecy when she heard the painful hiss.

"What's wrong?" Her innocent question was greeted with a terrified, and quickly muffled shriek. Varania had about screamed, but Leto, who had caught sight of Marian as she entered, quickly covered his sister's mouth with his hand.

"Ah, we d-did not mean to wake anyone," Varania was visibly shaking as she glanced quickly from Leto to Marian. "D-do you need anything, Messere?"

"I, no," Marian blinked, caught off guard by the question until she saw the scene before her more clearly. Leto had no shirt on, and a tirade of welts and long cuts ran the length of his chest and abdomen. "Sweet Maker!" Marian rushed forward, causing Varania to jump back a little which only increased her view of the boy's body. "Are you... Leto, those are teeth marks!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Leto grimaced as he bent to pick his shirt up off the nearby stool where two rolls of bandages had been placed. The wounds were fresh, Marian noted, because he was still bleeding from the jagged marks about his right arm.

"Stop moving," Marian ordered, as she stood before the elf, placing both her hands on his shoulders. "Varania, boil some water. Place some elf root into the pot," Marian firmly, and carefully, repositioned Leto back onto the stool he had occupied when she entered the kitchen. Varania gave a look to Marian, then her brother, before hurrying over to the pump to gather water.

"I do not require your assistance," Leto comment, his body stiff as she ran careful fingers over his torso.

"As I do recall you telling me already," Marian commented as she grimaced at the sight of the bite on his arm. "This morning I think it was? Varania, just bring the water here, and hand me the root!" Marian motioned the girl caring the pot of liquid to her. When she set the pot on the tiled floor, and handed Marian the root, the practiced mage began stripping the root into bits with her fingers. One thick part of the root took a bit of her strength to tear, but when it did it's jagged edge cut into her finger. Wincing, Marian put the finger in her mouth, sucking on the cut.

Copper; a bitter metallic. Like the air.

Fervently she shook the thought from her head. Now was not the time. Placing her hands into the pot, Marian conjured up a flame that set the water into a quick boil. Dipping a cloth into the water, she turned to Leto. The elf was more pale now then he was when she first saw him, which she didn't think was possible.

"No blood magic," Leto breathed out, a fear paralyzing him in place.

"What? No! I don't do blood magic," Marian pointed at her finger, "It's just a cut."

"Your blood is in the water," Leto accused, finding some of his strength in the face of such fear.

"It is not magic! It's just elf root in water. I only used magic to heat the water. It's not a spell," She spoke calmly, keeping the cloth a safe distance away from the elf. "It's just elf root..."

Leto seemed to register the truth of what she was saying, and he relaxed his body back into a normal seating position. Carefully, Marian cleaned the wounds, which she found were very filthy. There were rocks and dirt shoved into the cuts, along with whatever saliva that came off the mouth of the creature that had tried to eat the elf.

"You should seek proper healing," Marian commented as she put the rag down and pressed a bandage into his wound on his arm. "This will scar if you do not take a poultice or see a healer."

"...I am out of poultices." Leto honestly shrugged. Trying not to focus on the feeling on his wounds had left him more open in conversation then normally he would normally have allowed.

"Because you're a fool!" Varania spat, tears beginning to leak out from under her dark lashes. "If you insist on this insanity, at least buy what you need to mend."

"Varania," Leto gave his sister a warning scowl.

"We were even at the alchemist's shop today," Varania continued, unaffected by the silent request to be quiet. "You could have easily picked spent some of your earnings on a couple bottles."

"I'm not wasting money on potions," Leto hissed as Marian made a not so aggressive poke at one of his wounds.

"If you are going to end up like this, your sister has a point."

"Stay out of this," Marian could hear him say the word 'witch', even though it was never voiced.

"I can try to heal you. I'm not as good as other mages, but it won't hurt you and you need the healing."

"I am fine," Leto breathed out, getting off the stool and giving Marian a tight bow, which even the sight of it made Marian wince in pain for the elf. "Thank you."

"Leto, let her help you, or so help me I'll tell mother!" Leto faltered, frowning deeply at his sister's threat. Varania crossed her arms in front of her chest, returning his glare for her own. Marian couldn't help but notice the similarity. A familial scowl? What an interesting trait to share.

"Venhedis! Fine, do your worst, Mage," Leto gave Marian a glare that could melt stone. Lucky for her, Marian was not made of stone.

"You may call me, Marian," she spoke under her breath, "or Hawke, but call me Mage and I will have to call you Slave." Marian tried to ease the power of her magic into his wounds, but she was not a skilled healer. It was not that should couldn't heal them, nor that she lacked the power. She could, and she had both ability and power in abundance, but she problem lay in channeling the flow of her magic so it poured _gently_ into the wounds, instead of rushing upon them. Holding her hands over the worst wound first, the bite, she tried to stem the flow of energy that wanted to cascade out of her.

Leto flinched, his mouth twisting into a tight grimace, but he said nothing as she worked on the wound. Carver would always cry. Say that she made it hurt on purpose whenever she'd attempted to set a bone or heal a gash. Though, if in after thought she may have liked to, that was never the case in the moments she attempted to heal him.

"Sorry," Marian, blinked, focusing her energy as finely as she could through her fingers. Sweat beaded off her brow and ran down her face at the exertion she tried to maintain as she carefully coxed the tissues into mending. After what felt like an eternity, Marian panted out, her head dropping slightly as she tried to catch her breath. The arm beneath her hand pulled away, and deep throated hum caught her by surprise.

"You do good work, _Hawke_," Leto commented, lifting up the reddened bandage to expose pink flesh. His eyes examined his arm as he tentatively flexed his hand. Marian gave a small quirked smile, as she took another deep breath. Varania was by her side in a moment, pushing a glass of water to her lips and wiping a towel over her brow.

"Thank you, Varania," Marian nodded to the elf, as she handed her back the glass and motioned for Leto to face her.

"I do not think you should continue," Leto's voice rumbled low and deep in his chest. Marian tried to keep her face composed as she held her hands just over his very lean and muscular chest. It wasn't right to stare at him when he was injured. His voice wasn't helping though, the sound of it held an edge that strummed across the hairs on her body making them stand on end.

"Maker," Marian breathed, dropping her head to hide the blush. Her magic, she reasoned, must be making her senses heightened. That was the only explanation.

"That's enough. You've done more than enough Messere," Varania gently put her hands on Marian's shoulders. The kind act only heaped up the guilt she was feeling for not being more focused on the task. Who was attracted to someone who was bleeding anyways?

"No, I can do it," Marian said firmly, taking a deep breath to try and cool the embarrassed flush to her cheeks. Closing her eyes, since she didn't need them to focus on the injuries anyways, she held her hands over Leto's chest. With her eyes closed she didn't have to watch the flesh mend, but she was also unable to pick up on cues for her patient as to how much pain she was putting him under. A stifled grunting sound snapped her eyes back open just as she sealed the last cut that ran along his side. Leto was panting by now too, sweat gathering on his brow, but the pained look in his eyes had all but vanished to be replaced with exhaustion.

"Are you alright?" Varania asked the question Marian was afraid to. She'd dumped more magic on him in these last moments then she had when she healed his arm. She'd lost herself and forgot to hold back. Concern pinched her brows tight together as she waited for the elf to say something, anything!

He didn't. Reaching over to his side, he retrieved his tunic, and slid out of the stool. His moss green eyes looked at Marian for a second, before he stumbled out of the kitchen.

"Thank you, Messere," Varania whispered to Marian, her hand tentatively reaching to touch the mage's shoulder. "I don't think I would... I don't think I could have helped him. Not enough."

"Did Dolan do that to him?" Marian was pale, her fingers gripping into her knees and she felt herself shaking. Her nails were drawing blood where they dug into her skin.

"Oh, no Miss! Messere Dolan is a good Master." Varania took her hand away from Marian and began cleaning up the bloody rags and water from about the kitchen. The sharp bite of copper mixed with water hit Marian's nose as Varania moved the pot of elf root water out of the kitchen to dump it outside.

That smell, she had come to understand, was what she kept smelling about the city. That 'thing' in the air. Metallic, like copper. The city reeked of it.

"He had bite marks, and cuts from a blade across his body," Marian shook a little at the memory of the damage she'd seen when she first entered the kitchen.

"He, he's a fool!" Varania sobbed, her hands covering green eyes that sprang up rivets of water. "He does 'things' that get him so badly hurt, and I can't make him stop. I've tried, but he doesn't listen."

"Varania," Marian wiped the sleeve of her robe over her brow, "I'd like to help. If you'll let me."

"I-I can not... I'm sorry Messere, please do not concern yourself with us. We are but slaves." Marian bit down on her tongue, anger boiling up in her. Her father had said the same thing essentially, had he not? Giving a slow nod, Marian stood carefully, wishing Varania a good night. She would not press Varania for things she would not, or could not say. What would she do if it turned out those 'things' Leto did put him at odds with Marian's conscious? Was he a thief? Was he a bandit, a killer?

There were too many strange events for one night for Marian's liking. Still unable to return to her bed at the vivid dream, she continued on her way to the library. The moon was still high in the sky, it's light adding to the glow of the orb she summoned to chase away the shadows. Searching the tomes about her, she paused on one. She had hoped to find a book on demons, but instead she pulled out a book on healing.

Climbing into her favored chair, she pulled the throw off the back of the chair and cuddled into the blanket as she opened the book. She knew healing magic because her father had insisted on it, but it was never something she went out of her way to study. She'd never had to worry about it too much, because her father was never too far away that he couldn't be reached. Until this night, it never occurred to her that she would ever have issues she did not want to bring to him. If it meant that she would need to learn more healing magic on her own, then it was probably time.

Besides, she couldn't didn't think she could bring herself to read up on demons when she was as exhausted as she was. The fear that she might fall into dreams of demons still tugged at the fringes of her frayed consciousness.

Leto pulled himself into the hayloft of the stables, his body tired, but not in pain or bleeding as it had been just a few moments before. Collapsing on the hay, he released his breath as he let his weight press him into the straw. The cloth cots in the slave's quarter would have been softer, but he never slept inside on nights where he went out. Usually, it was because he returned in much the same condition as he had tonight.

No, he amended silently to himself. Tonight was worse. He had thought to save more coin if he didn't buy a poultice. Also, they had had someone tag along with them on their trip. Even still, he had grown cocky as he grew more skilled. He had been taken down tonight, nearly beaten; nearly killed. By the Void, he'd nearly been eaten! He lived though, and with what sleep he could manage, he would be well enough to fight again come tomorrow if he felt so inclined.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Leto frowned as he tried to think. He was exhausted, but an idea was forming in his head. It may be a bad idea, but he was too tired to evaluate it properly.

He could sleep on it though.

When he woke, it was to a switch snapping at his side. Cringing under the lashing, Leto gave a cool eye to the stable master. "Enough sleep, boy!" Leto pushed himself up, freezing for a moment as he examined his arm that held his weight with such ease. It had been torn and shredded the night before, and now it was hole and no pain remained.

Taking longer to exit the loft then the Stable Master wished, Leto was privy to a string on insults that had long ago lost their sting; much like the riding crop. Pulling himself down, Leto began feeding the mares, goats, and cats about the stables. When the animals were fed, he picked up his gloves, and began shoveling the stable floor.

Varania was there just as he finished his early morning chores. The sun was just starting to rise over the horizon when his sister came bursting into the stables, a meat stuffed bun pulled out from her skirt pocket as she greeted him.

"Sister," Leto gave a shake of his head at the offering, "you should not take such things from the kitchen."

"I didn't!" Varania scowled, her brow knitting together at the accusation. "Marian gave it to me off her plate. She said you need it more. That you need your strength." This new revelation only made Leto's frown deepen.

"She is a mage, Varania," Leto admonished, shaking his head. "You should not accept things from mages."

"What? Like the mage that helped heal your stupid, stubborn ass?" Varania snapped.

"We don't know anything about her, or her family. When they turn to blood magic~"

"She said that she doesn't _do_ blood magic," Varania huffed at her brother, shoving the roll into his chest.

"Yet." Leto amended, but he accepted the roll, cautiously as though it may be poisoned.

"You owe her your arm," Varania gave him a look, and he rolled his eyes at her.

"A little dramatic, no?" He commented, his mouth watering when he sniffed the food. Taking a few tentative bites, it wasn't long before he quickly found he finished the bun. He didn't know he was so hungry. "I was not going to lose my arm. At worst, I may have had to steal a potion of Master's stock."

"Stealing from Master will get you killed!" Varania snapped in hushed tones. Leto dropped a hand to her trembling shoulder, pulling her into his chest as he laid his chin upon her crown.

"Shh," He soothed the trembling girl in his arms who was fighting, and failing, the tears that dropped from her eyes. "I'm alright."

"One day you won't be," His sister sniffed as she clutched to his tunic.

"That day will not come, not until you and mother are free." The resolve in his voice brought another tremble from the girl in his arms.

"Can't we just go on? Our Master is kind. He does not beat us, or starve us. Why~"

"You know why," Leto kissed his sister's head, closing his green eyes as he gave her one last hug before breaking the contact. Varania felt her heart sink as she watched him grab his training sword off the wall.

"You're not fully healed!" Varania admonished, trying to stop her brother from taking the training sword out of the stables. He shook her off him with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

"I've been far worse and still trained. Now, are you going to sing for me?" He turned his green and gold laced eyes to his sister, a warm smile lighting them and Varania's heart feel even farther at the sight of it.

"Of course, brother, I would do anything you wished." She followed him out to the courtyard. Today she was stringing up herbs to be dried. She laced a string through the plants, tying their stalks in bundles as she sung a soft tune. Leto practiced to the song, as he always did, and Varania did her best to not cry while they both paced through their routines.

Marian heard the sound of singing, and she turned her eyes down toward the garden below. She saw him going through a sword routine. Part of her was glad, while the other part as flabbergasted. Hadn't she just told Varania that he needed rest? Slamming the book in her lap closed, Marian stood, drinking the last of the tea off her tray, as she headed down the ladder of the library. She was more than ready to give that boy a piece of her mind, when the door opened, and her father nearly barreled her over.

She blinked, frozen and unsure of herself for the first time in his presence. She had thought, or maybe hoped, that in the morning he would come back to himself. That he would say he was sorry, or pat her head and say he understood. Instead, she was met with his eyes that were sharp and a brow pinched tight in a frown.

When he saw her, he raised his hand, a letter waving about in his fingers. "What is the meaning of this, Marian?!"

"What?" The girl balked, confused and actually still rather annoyed that no apology looked to be forthcoming.

"You have a letter," He stated flatly, handing her the small, white folded paper marked with a wax seal.

"A letter? For me?" She reached for the paper, taking it from her father so she could inspect the paper. "I don't understand..." She tapped the letter in her palm, her eyes going from the address to her father.

"Whatever it is that you've done, you better tell me, and be quick about it!"

"Father, I've done nothing!" She frowned, handing the letter back to him. "I don't know this person, and I have no idea how they'd know me. Maybe it's a mistake and it's suppose to be for you?"

"The only similarity between our given names is that they both start with 'M', my Sparrow," Malcolm sighed, his eyes softening as concern spread deeply through his shoulders, it's weight palatable. "You are too young to go on your own. I will go with you. You are my daughter, after all. I have that right."

"You're so sure it's an invitation?" Marian asked, sliding her finger under the seal to open the letter that had been so neatly address to her in a perfect scrawl. "Well, you would be right," Marian frowned, unsure of what this all meant. She hadn't done anything to warrant the attention of the council of magisters.

"You are sure you do not know this man?" Her father asked as he paced back and forth in front of her.

"I've never even heard the name Denarius before, Papa!"

TBC~

* * *

**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

Author's Note:

Sorry this is a bit shorter then I wanted it to be, but it felt like a good spot to end it. I knew I would get distracted with Leto. Well, I liked the scene anyways. I'll try to get the next chapter up and hopefully some of the answers as to what is going on will start to come out. I can't make promises though. For some reason I keep having a notion of the mad hatter at tea for the next bit. I'll see how that plays out. Thank you for reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed this installment!


	6. Chapter 6: To Stay

**A Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter 6**

**To Stay**

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Marian rode with her father's back facing her. Her arms held him about the waist, but she was actually worried when she noticed just how taunt his back was. She could not see his face, but it would be impossible to not have a vivid picture of the shadows that played across the lines of his worn eyes.

"I didn't intend to kill anyone," Marian offered him, in hopes of easing his tension. It was true. When she had enchanted the stone to pelt down the Slaver on the docks the other day, she had not thought of killing the man. She hadn't considered it. It did not follow, though, that she actually cared or would have regretted it. There was no need for her to share that part with him though.

Malcolm let out a sigh, his shoulders drooping slightly, but other than that he made no move to accept the preverbal olive branch. Marian felt her heart sink more then she thought it would at the rejection, and though she wanted to cry, she wouldn't allow herself to do so.

"I know." Malcolm's deep voice hummed, he cocked his head to the side, giving his daughter an understanding look. "Trust me when I say that I do not like every aspect of our new home. There are many things wrong with this place, my Dear." Malcolm reached down and patted one of her hands that had knotted unconsciously into his robes. "If we were back in Ferelden... But, we are not. I won't lose you to the gallows Marian. Please, try to remember; Every one of your actions has consequences."

"What of my inaction?" Marian shot back, harder then she meant, but Malcolm gave her his trademark smirk instead of admonishment.

"Balance them out so that your mother will not have my head?" Marian smiled at his grin, her arms tightening around her father as they rode the mare deeper into the heart of Minrathous.

"Do you know what he wants?" Marian asked her father as they drew nearer to the Magisters' Tower. A building that shot up like an onyx spike in the heart of the city. It over looked the entirety of Minrathous, from the Noble Estates in the higher hills, to the markets and Trade quarter, all the way to the docks in the bay. The stone of this building, and it was truly a building of stone, was black. This was no trick of the eye and sun. Marian felt a chill as they drew near the large walled gate that encircled the large tower.

"No. He is a Magister of the city. That is all I know. I would have asked Artamus, but he was already out on council business this morning before the letter came."

"It is kind enough that we are allowed the horse~"

"Marian," Malcolm pulled the reins of the horse, stilling the beast in its place. "We do not want to be affiliated with the Magisters."

Marian frowned, confused more at her father's deathly serious tone then at the statement itself. She nodded, and though he didn't turn to see it, he spurred the horse on.

When they reached the large double gatehouse of the Magisters' Tower, two guards came out to great them. Malcolm extended the invitation, which was viewed only on ceremony before they were usared it. It felt, to Marian at least, as though they were expected. A slave was upon them as they came to the large, thick stone doors that marked the entrance to the tower. He held the horse as Malcolm climbed down. Malcolm reached back, and with two hands easily lifted his daughter off the horse and down onto the ground beside him. His grip on her sides caused a flash of pain behind Marian's amber eyes, and one he did not miss. He tilted his black bearded chin to his daughter, a question on his lips as the stone doors slide open.

"Good Morning, Serrah Hawke," Came an overly sultry voice from upon the raised stairs the lead into the tower. Marian froze, her eyes going wide as her memory sparked at recognition. Lavender eyes, deep amethysts penetrated under thick, black bangs. Her ornate purple gown hugged her body as she stepped easily down the stairs. She paused though, only going halfway as she raised a ringed hand to the pair of Hawkes. "I am Hadriana. Please, do come in. You are both welcome, even if _you_ were not invited." Her painted lips held a thin, obviously not so forgiving, smile to Malcolm.

"I'm glad to take you up on that offer, seeing as how _my_ daughter is too _young_ to be making such trips on her own," Malcolm had to keep himself from spitting in his usual ire at such a thinly veiled censure. He also had to consciously keep from placing himself between his daughter and this woman. The woman in soft purples looked more amused as she saw the conflicts playing out across his face.

"Why was I called here?" Marian asked, her voice strong and defiant against the woman whom she now could place. She knew where she had seen her before.

"You were called for tea," The lavender eyed woman bowed her head, a long grin pulling at her lips. "My master wishes to see you. He thinks, ha! Well," The woman laughed, turning and leading the way into the tower, "it matters little. Come now, you really should not keep him waiting. That would be rude. He hates it when people are rude."

Marian gave her father a look, one that mirrored his own. They could still just leave now, right? Their horse gave a distant snort, drawing their notice to the fact that their mount was being lead off to the stables by the slave who had helped them dismount. Marian and her father shared a look of resolve, one akin to the expression they wore before they were beset by bandits, and they headed into the tower.

The tower screamed mage, Marian thought, as they walked through a long open hall. The main hall was lined with pillars and statues in a white stone that offset the onyx of the building's walls. The statues were of mages, christened in fairy lights that glowed to illuminate the stone faces. The ceiling itself was vaulted high, and held a chandelier that glowed and hung through methods that were as assuredly as magical as the lights about the statues they passed.

Hadriana lead them through a side passage that followed a curved staircase that seemed to loop around the center of the building as it ascended. Off to their sides they passed many rooms that held many more voices then Marian thought she could count. The hum of magic was thick in the air, and occasionally she could hear the sound of someone casting in the distance. With each level they ascended, the more Marian felt her head spin. Each floor held more of the same. They were in a building full of mages. Mages who were practicing magic. There were some she spied reading through thick tombs, others were grouped about preparing ingredients for potions, and even more were in the practiced art of casting.

"The Circle," Marian breathed out quietly, her heart sinking.

"No, there is no Circle of Magi here," Hadriana cooed, her lips giving something between a smile and a sneer. "These are students. Young mages of Minrathous. Those who have not the ability, or the skill, to find a Master Mage to teach them." The last she added with a grand laugh, her chest puffing out proud as they walked past the rooms of training mages. "The very gifted are plucked up quickly by one Magister or another. Like, for instance, myself."

Marian had half a mind to punch the girl in the face just to see if she could knock that snide smirk off her painted lips when suddenly she turned on them. Her arm extended off to the side, her gemmed fingers indicating to the door before them.

"Danarius will see you now. I'll have the tea sent for."

Malcolm took the lead, moving before his daughter and entering the room. Marian followed behind him, her eyes darting to the knowing smirk of the girl who had lead them. She winked before Marian had slipped into the room, drawing out a crackling across Marian's skin.

The room was quiet, and the little light that poured in from the pointed window seemed to be absorbed by the black stone about them. A few candles hung about the room, but they did little then to light the area around their flames. Yellow hue reflected of a cluttered office. A desk sat near the window, a tall and ominously designed chair placed it's pointed high arching back behind the desk. On the surface were strewn many scrolls and books. In a cupboard nearby she noticed housed several potion bottles. Some must have held living ingredients as there was hidden movement in their dark fluids.

The only real light came from a fireplace that stood on the far wall from them, and in its light stood their host. He was dressed in deep blue robes which contrasted with his whitening hair and beard. He turned his sharp features on their entrance, his fingers flipping a used matchstick into the fireplace. His other hand was holding onto a thin pipe that he puffed upon to draw out the orange glow of its embers.

Marian felt a chill run down her spine when she looked into his pale, lightless eyes. They were so pale they did not even seem blue, but instead a cloudy gray. He gestured to the couch that rested near the fireplace as he took a well used leather arm chair across from them. The chair gave the older mage the best view of the two Hawkes as they entered.

"There are two when there was to be but one." The Magister commented, reclining in his chair, but his hand that gripped his pipe was tense.

"I will not allow my daughter to wander through Minrathous, or any city, unattended." Malcolm frowned, as he crossed his arm to the man. "Besides, a stranger writes my child. I should know who this man is, before sending her off at his whim. Are you that man?"

"I am Danarius, and yes, I did write to a Marian Hawke. That would be this young one here I assume? I can see why you felt the need to accompany her. I did not expect her to be so..." He looked Marian from head to toe before returning his gaze to Malcolm, "Well, she is younger than I expected anyways. Though surely old enough to come to the Arcane Halls herself."

"I do not send her off to meet strange men~"

"Also, should you have been a citizen of Minrathous, you would find me as no stranger." Danarius had cool gray fire burning in his eyes, and Marian felt her hands tightening into fists about her robes. The air felt hot, and charged with energy. "I am a well renowned Magister of the city. It is _usually_ considered an honor to receive a gain an audience with me."

"I am pleased to meet you," Marian sat up, injecting herself into the staring contest her father had taken up with the fellow mage. Danarius disregarded her father after a moment, his eyes evaluating her. "I am Marian Hawke. May I ask, to what I owe this honor?"

"You're power," Danarius relaxed, though her father was even more ridged then at the beginning of the conversation. "Hadriana came to me last night, insisting that she'd found a diamond in our little city."

"Hadriana? That girl who just now? But how~" Marian asked, her face scrunching in confusion.

"Yes, she is one of my very attentive apprentices. A gem all to herself, as it were," He chuckled as he shrugged. "She found you in your dreams. A very good find, she said. I called you here to see if she was right." Danarius rose, tapping out his pipe into the hearth.

"In my dreams..." Marian knew that was where she had seen those amethyst eyes. She knew it was in her dreams she had seen that girl, but how was that even possible? Her side tinged up as a reminding ache at the memory of the nightmare the night before, and at the injury she'd woken with. She didn't know if she felt better that it wasn't a demon she had faced in her dream, but rather a fellow mage who had managed to cause her physical harm.

"Yes, she's a gifted dream walker," Danarius continued, "She was right. I can feel your magic swelling off you in waves. Tell me, what training do you have child?"

"I am training my daughter," Malcolm bristled, his fists clenching as he began to guess the direction of the conversation. "I thank you, but I need no help."

"I wasn't going to offer to train her," Danarius cocked a brow at Malcolm as he stowed his pipe in his robes. "Don't be so presumptions. She has a strong connection to the Fade, but it is also lacks control." His eyes focused on Marian, "I see you now, and it is like looking at a leaf tumbling in a hurricane. Tell me, Child, do you often find yourself casting without having to focus on drawing on your mana? Does your magic swell with your emotions? Without you even calling upon it?"

Marian flinched, her eyes going from the Magister to her father, a confused and scared look in her amber eyes. "Father?"

"I've been working with her. She is strong. She can control it," Malcolm said to Danarius, ignoring the confused look from his daughter. She didn't understand how he knew those things about her. She hadn't told her father, and if he had noticed, he never said anything. Apparently, based on what he said, he had noticed and even seen it as something that needed to be controlled.

Marian frowned, at first her father, then at the hands she had clenched in her lap. She hadn't thought it was so abnormal, the way her magic flowed so easily around her. She never felt the magic emitting off her father as it did off herself, but she assumed it was simply because he had trained to hide it from the Templers. The idea that her connection to the Fade might be abnormally strong had never crossed her mind. Though, now that she contemplated it, Bethany did not exude magic as she did either. However, she had simply assumed that it was something that would manifest as she aged.

"No, you will not." Danarius gave a flat reply to her father. One that intoned finality. "You are refugees in Minrathous," the Magister cut off Malcolm's retort even as her father opened his mouth. "You are not citizens. We have no circle here, but we make sure to take care of all our city's mages. The training offered in the Arcane Halls is free, but it is also compulsory. All mages need proper training."

"Like going to school for magic?" Marian asked.

"Yes, but I do not think you should train here. You seem to have... Special needs." Danarius rubbed his chin as the door to the study opened. The lavender robed girl, Hadrian, entered with a tray that held cups and a pot of tea. "Vivian, a captain of the Battle Mages, would be a good fit for you. She runs patrols through the region. You could work on controlling your connection to the Fade safely outside the city walls."

"You want my daughter to join the guards?!" Malcolm scoffed waving a hand at his daughter as a cup of tea was handed to her. Marian took the cup, her eyes dancing to the girl who had lead them to the room. "She is but fourteen. She's still a child!"

"Barely still a child, and she is a mage," Danarius said, unaffected by Malcolm's tone. "She would be more then safe under the guidance of Vivian. She is a magnificent battle mage."

"But~"

"Also, should your daughter decide to join the guards, it would guaranty her entire family citizenship. One of the perks of signing up. Given that you have another mage daughter, I would highly recommend it." Marian's fingers gripped so tightly about the handle of the tea cup she thought she felt it crack under her grip. They knew of Bethany. How did they know of Bethany?

_The same way they knew about you_. Marian felt suddenly sick, and set the tea down, untouched on the stand beside the couch. Hadriana gave her a curious look, but a knowing smile soon captured her painted lips. Marian looked up at the girl was she took away the cup of tea, and the smile that mocked her as she stared in rage at the girl. The smile left little to doubt. This Hadriana had no doubt been in Bethany's dreams as well. Was she the reason her sister had been having nightmares?

Malcolm did not say anything about the mention of Bethany, though his fists could not have gone anymore white then they were now.

" If either of your daughter's were picked up by a slaver, there would be little you could do about it. Many would pay top coin for a mage slave." Danarius gave a smile to the dark haired girl as she handed him a cup of tea as well.

"That's a very nicely veiled threat," Malcolm said as he shook his head in rejection of the offered tea cup that passed his way.

"It's a warning, Serrah Hawke," Danarius said as he sipped from his own cup. "It is kindly meant. I am not in the practice of buying mage slaves myself."

"That's because you have your pick of any mage in the city," Hadriana chimed in, her voice a purr of adoration. "Why buy a mage?"

"Yes, yes," Danarius seemed more agitated by the compliment then gratified. Going to his desk, he began to scribe something down on a sheet of paper. Folding the paper, he heated a red wax stick to a candle on the desk. After apply the wax Danarius pressed his ring into the hot mold, sealing the letter. Going to Marian, he handed the girl the letter. Hesitantly, Marian took the paper.

"You will take that to the city gate. Ask for Vivanna per my request. They won't take just anyone, but a word from me will get you in. She will take care of you from there." Danarius paused, evaluating Marian once more. "I know you will do what's right for your family, young one."

"What of the other girl?" Hadriana asked, more to Danarius then to Malcolm.

"Yes, as I've explained, tutorship in the Arcane Halls is compulsory. Your other daughter, and any other mage children you may be hiding, must attend the school."

"We came here to be free of a Circle," Malcolm spat, no longer caring to put on a nice facade.

"It is a school, not a Circle," Danarius took no notice of the fire in Malcolm's eyes. "Send her to the Hall, or accompany her if you prefer, by the week's end. We'll evaluate her and assign her to a proper tiered class at that time. Classes are held during the day, and unless you wish her to stay in the dorms, she may return home every evening." Danarius went to his desk, but instead of scrawling out another letter, he pulled an already prepared envelop off the desk. This one he handed to Malcolm. "It is required of all young mages in Minrathous. To not attend the school is to not be a member of our city." Malcolm took to letter as he rose from the cushioned seat.

"Come," He beaconed to Marian, no offered goodbye as he left the Magister and his apprentice.

They walked from the school, and to the stables in silence. Marian said nothing as they rode through the city. She didn't know what to say. She had put the letter in her robes, and she was acutely aware of its presence pressed in upon her.

When they arrived at Dolan's Estate, it was Leto who came to steady the mount. Her father dismounted, his eyes dark as he entered the estate. Leto looked from Malcolm to Marian, his face a practiced blank mask. His eyes, green and gold, swirled curiously as he raised a hand to help Marian dismount.

"Thank you," She said, as she took his hand and dismounted the mare.

"You look pale," Leto said, just above a whisper, and Marian forced her lips into a smile.

"Yes, well, it's been a rough morning."

"Varania said a letter came from a Magister for you." Marian blinked in surprise. His face was still schooled in that stoic expression but she swore there was concern in his voice.

"Yes," Marian smiled, her fingers unconsciously touching the pocket that held the letter. "It seems I'm going to be a guard."

"A guard?" Leto asked, a frown pulling on his lips. "You're a Lady. That makes no sense." Marian gave a laugh at being called a 'Lady'. She felt the blush rush quickly to her cheeks when she realized she was still holding his hand. Pulling it away to cough into it, she suppressed the embraced chuckle.

"I'm a mage," Marian said, and she felt her heart fall even as she said it. She excused herself when she felt the tears beginning to pool in her eyes. It really didn't matter where they went, or what they did. No matter who she was, that was the overriding aspect that would determine everything else.

She was a mage.

She could hear her father father's raised voice as she entered. He was yelling. She followed it to the library, where she found Artamus looking shocked and confused at the ever reddening face of her father. Varania stood back in the corner of the room, a tray held up to her face as though she could will herself out of existence behind the wooden surface she gripped.

"You sold my family out!"

"No, Malcolm, I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Did he pay you, or is it just a collection of a favor?"

"Please, friend, I did no such thing. I've told no one about your children!"

"I brought my family here to be free. They were to have normal lives!"

"Malcolm!" Artamus stood suddenly, and Marian saw for the first time hints of fire in his ever kind eyes. "Do not accuse me so. Have I not been a _generous_ host? Anyways, these things that are requested of you and yours _are_ normal Malcolm. The life of a mage will never be the life of a mundane." Her father opened his mouth to speak, or yell, but Artamus cut him off again, "Since you do not seem to grasp it, let me spell it out for you. One of the head Magisters of all Minrathous has decided to place your daughter up for training as a battle mage. Not only that, but to place her under Vivianna! In addition to this being a _great_ honor, it is also a boon. Your family will have the protection of citizenship if your daughter joins the guard. As for Bethany attending the Arcane Halls? Well, honestly, Malcolm? They need proper education! As gifted a mage as you are, you are not the type I remember to ever excel in tutoring."

"If joining the guards will gain my family citizenship then I should be the one to do it," Malcolm cursed, though more under his breath in frustration then at Artamus.

"Yes, as nice as that would be, that's not how it works here," Artamus calmed as well, returning to his chair as his large finger tapped at his desk. "The point, in fact, is that I have no sway over the guards of the city. I could never have purchased a commission for you, because I have none of the Battle Mages who would do me the favor of accepting you under their tutelage. They prefer to recruit younger, and train them up as their apprentices."

Marian watched as her father's shoulders slumped, defeated by the truth of their situation. He collapsed into the chair across from Artamus, his hands running through his thick black hair. "I can't ask this of my daughter. I won't. We can leave then. Live outside the city."

"What? And then what will you do?" Artamus raised a quizzical brow, "You will need to work, and leave your family at home as you do so. There are enough problems with bandits and slavers running amuck outside the city gates. Here, at the least, you have secured work. If you are a citizen, then you and yours will have the protection of the city. Mages do not suffer in Minrathous, my friend. I never lied to you about that."

"I want to do it." Both men turned then to the interloper. Marian kept her eyes to the ground, her feet fidgeting under her robes as she examined the grains of the floor boards.

"Marian, no," Malcolm protested, but it was weak with weariness. Biting the inside of her lip, she set her face hard against the proclamation.

"I want this, Father. Would you deny me? When it can mean Mother, Bethany, and Carver will be secured a future? I want to accept training under Vivianna. When have I ever asked you for anything?"

Malcolm flinched like he had been slapped across the face. He turned his eyes away from his daughter, the shook and fear so clearly pained in them. It was true. Marian had never asked her family for anything. She had put them all first, even to her own detriment, to her own pain. She had bled for them, she had killed for them, and she would die for them. However, she'd never asked for an consideration in return. Malcolm stood, a frown pulling on his lips, but he did not look at his daughter as he left the room.

Marian turned to leave as well, angry, and hurt, and frustrated at everything she simply wanted to get away. Artamus' voice called to her and she paused as she turned.

"You're doing the right thing, little Hawke."

TBC~

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**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

Author's Note:

If at any point I accidentally write Fenris instead of Leto please let me know. I've caught myself doing that more than once already. Sorry for the delay in this chapter. In addition to the holidays, I found writing Danarius fairly daunting for some reason. I was trying to not pour pure evil into the man... Yet. Thank you again for the reviews and I hope you enjoy this installment!


	7. Chapter 7: Passing Clouds

**Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter 7**

**Passing Clouds**

Marian watched the clouds pass through the ever blue sky. She had a feeling that it was more blue here because it was so close to the water's edge. The sand shifted just so evenly under her body, it's heat helping her to relax the taunt muscles about her thin frame. The sun, she felt, was like a soothing balm of heat, and she basked in its glow.

When the thick armored boot kicked her in the head, she wasn't surprised. She'd seen the shadow encroaching from the corner of her eyes. More accurately, her eye. One of her amber orbs was caked over with blood, and would not allow for any vision to pass through the sealed lid.

"Get up." The gruff command was not nearly as harsh as she had expected. This she took to mean that while she needed to rise, it did not require extreme haste. Setting her teeth, she pushed with shaky arms off the shifting sands. "That was foolish of you."

"Yes, Messere," Hawke tilted her head down, but did not flinch away from the long fingers that brushed through the matted locks that stuck to her face.

"You're being reckless." Marian chose not to answer that comment, as it was a statement and not a question. She had been reckless. She had thought to demolish the spider's nest with one well placed, massive, fireball.

It had worked.

The nest was destroyed. The larva, and large spiders that tended them, roasted to a cinder in the heat she'd conjured. However, that did nothing to brood mother who stood apart. Her massive body was clinging to the ceiling above Marian's head, hidden in shadow. She'd been too focused to even notice the creature hiding in the stalagmites of the cave. Her fire had drawn it's eyes, and she had not seen it coming.

It crashed down on her, one sharp and speared leg gashing a long cut across her temple. She had thought it had taken her eye. She could no longer see out of the thing. She tried to summon up a shield of ice to block the following blow as the creature spun and screeched in fury. The spell sputtered, ice forming crystals about the earth in front of her, but they did not turn into the sharp, freezing blades she had tried to form. The beast was on her, it's fangs spreading wide to expose it's many teethed mouth.

She thought she was dead.

A flash of white light, and the creature froze in that pose, it's massive body paralyzed in the position of a killing blow. Dropping and rolling to the side, Marian, took a breath, and yelled in anger as she whipped her staff around, a storm of ice shards impaling the creature until nothing but a sticky pile of green goo remained.

"You were suppose to stay within my sight at all times in the caves."

"I apologize," Marian resisted the urge to sigh as the warm blue light relieve the pain that had engulfed her head.

"Yes, and if you die, who is to pay me back for all the training I've given you?" Vivianna remarked, agitation clearly present on her tone. When she pulled away, Marian was not left for long until a moist cloth was shoved against her coated eye. Taking the cloth, the young Hawke wiped away the sticky mess that was her face.

"I'm sure my father could afford to pay you something for all your efforts," Marian shrugged, as she stood gingerly on her feet. Vivianna was a marvelous healer, but she had been careful to only heal the wound on her pupil's head. She wanted Marian to heal her body herself. That, or to feel the pain of her stupidity. Probably both, Marian reasoned.

Vivianna was a conundrum to the younger mage. When she had first met the woman, it was near the guard towers of the gates. She had been chewing out one guard for not standing as crisply to attention as she liked. Though she seemed to view giving the guard a good tongue lashing as a very important duty, it was with a chagrined face that she accepted the letter from Marian's hands.

From there, their friendship began!

"If you ever do something so stupid again, I will let the spider, wolf, or dark spawn get a nice mouthful before I decide _if_ I'm going to help your dim-witted Ferelden ass out."

...Or not?

"Yes, Messere," Marian bowed, trying to keep as practiced a blank face as Leto had so often given her. She was nowhere near his skill though, for Vivianna gave her a skeptical look, before turning her silvery mane of hair away in a huff.

Using her staff as a crutch, Marian began to follow her Master off the beach. Vivianna stopped, and quickly turned. Marian expected it now, unlike the million other times it had caught her off guard. She ducked to the side, but her body was not as limber as it should have been. The force push spell slammed into her shoulder, spinning her about and knocking her off her feet.

"Hey, that was cheap. I'm injured," Marian pouted as she clutched her shoulder.

"Then heal your blighted self! No apprentice of _mine_ will ever be caught limping back into the city. Especially not after such a simple thing as killing a spider!" Vivanna shot the last out over her shoulder as she stormed off the sandy beach back toward the path that, eventually, lead to the city.

Sighing, Marian knew she couldn't delay. She would have to heal herself quickly, unless she wanted to brave the return trip alone. Focusing on the staff in her hand, Marian tried to push the healing magic out before pulling it back in. It was a difficult enough thing to heal your own wounds, but for her it held an extra level of challenge. She was still trying to focus the control on her mana. If she released too much power too quickly, she had just as much of a chance of burning her flesh as she did healing it. Given how often she became injured now, she'd found that directing the spell out before taking it back in helped her to control its strength... somewhat.

She hissed slightly, as her ribs burned under her concentration. The pain a reminder she was still learning. Finishing, she stumbling back to her feet. Marian moved to quickly follow after the disappearing Battle Mage's form.

Vivianna shimmered in the sun's rays, or that's how best she thought to describe it. The mage wore silver plated pauldron with her black robes. The cloth shimmered as much as the metal, an icy enchantment upon the cloth reflecting the light of the sun. Her appearance was a striking thing to behold, with her silver hair and ice blue eyes. It also made of an easy figure to follow from a distance, Marian thought as she chuckled to herself. She hurried to keep a close, but safe distance from her master.

She didn't know if she liked the older mage, didn't know if she even respected her, but she was learning. Quickly too. Her spells, as it apparently turned out, were wasting energy they did not need to. Vivianna had described it to her as a bucket being filled past the brim. Her magic would splash out, wildly sometimes.

That was not the problem she had just encountered though. Her magic had failed her against the giant spider. That didn't happen to her often, but it did happen, and the notion scared Marian. Her magic could wax and wane if she did not learn to control it. She could cast extremely strong spells, then much weaker ones would follow. She had expended much when she cast the fire ball. However, she'd never had her magic fail so utterly. Even now she could see the spider's fangs poised to rip her head clean from her body, and a shiver followed the image down her spine.

"Have you figured it out yet?" Vivianna's usually harsh voice asked placidly, startling Marian from her ravine. She hadn't noticed the Battle Mage halting to wait for her.

"I did use a lot of magic for the fireball. Even still, I don't see how..." Marian about swallowed her tongue when the older woman laughed heartily at her.

"Fireball?" Vivianna burst out laughing again, this time clutching her stomach as it seemed to pain her. "My, my dear, naive little apprentice! What you cast was more aptly called a Firestorm." Vivianna continued to chuckle, wiping tears from her pale blue eyes. "Oh, please, that was too good. As a reward, I shall tell you what you did wrong."

"I know what I did wrong," Marian frowned, crossing her arms in front of her chest at being the butt of a joke. Vivianna came up to her, slipped a long finger under Marian's chin and tilted it up to keep a clear gaze on Marian's amber eyes.

"You were afraid." Vivianna all but whispered, watching her student's eyes as it sunk in.

"I, I wasn't~" Her protest died on her lips as Vivianna released her, a knowing smirk on her painted lips.

"You were," She continued as they walked the last of the path that lead to the northern city gate. "You had every cause to be. Don't let it happen again."

Marian swallowed at the unspoken threat in that commanding statement. To never be afraid? How was she to follow that command? When they entered the city, Vivianna dismissed her for the day, and Marian gladly took her leave.

It had been almost two years since they had come to the Imperium, and Marian was still unsure of herself as she walked it's streets. She spoke the language now, and though she sometimes could do a social blunder, those moments had lessened some. The guards would give her a nod as she passed, either as acknowledgment of her apprenticeship under Vivianna, or as a warning that they were keeping their eye on her. She did not know how to take the action yet.

Nearly two years, and she had made no friends in the guards she worked with, nor with the mages in the city. She knew people, that was true enough, but Marian was acutely aware of how isolated she had become. The guards would not relax around her because she was the apprentice to their boss. The mages, Marian was somewhat grateful for, had kept their distance.

She had, somehow, built an amazing reputation in the city as a very promising, powerful mage. One who caught the eye of a Magister. This had caused everything from jealousy, fear, scorn, and anger to be directed in her direction whenever she crossed another mage's path. That was not very often, though, because Marian spent most of her time out of the city with Vivianna on patrols.

Even as she walked to the Arcane Halls, Marian shoved her hands into the pockets of her robes. She hated coming here, but she did so every day, minus the weekends.

"Marian!" Sky blue eyes, warm and full of love, greeted her at the steps of the Hall. Bethany who had been chatting with Hadriana, bounced down the stone steps. Marian tried not to frown at the woman who had been talking with her sister, when Bethany's arms flew around her. She was quickly swallowed up in her sister's embrace. Grinning at the eager greeting, Marian, brought her hand up to her sister's hair and ruffled it as she pressed her forehead down to her sister's in their shared greeting.

"Well, hello," was all Marian was able to get out before Bethany shrieked in her face.

"What happened to you sister?! All that blood!" Marian took a moment to look at the large red stain that had spilled over the collar of her robes and onto her shoulder.

"I'm fine," The elder girl tried to separate herself form the hands that had begun to search her up and down for injures. "A little scratch. Already healed up too, so stop that!" Turning her eyes about the gates to the school, Marian found the eyes of many directed at the two of them. Including the lavender gaze of Hadriana. She tried her best to hide her distain of the other woman's attention when the blood drained from her face. Bethany had managed to grabbed the attention of not just some of the young students about the Halls, but all of them. Grabbing Bethany's hand, she tugged the girl away from the school as she felt the blood return, a blush staining her cheeks.

"You were injured," Bethany's voice was stern, like their mother's, which only made Marian sigh in defeat.

"Yes, but I _am_ alright now," Marian turned and raised a finger to Bethany's pursed lips. "Do me a favor, and do not mention it to Father, or Mother. They might worry, and without cause. I can assure you of that."

"Yeah right," Bethany snorted in disbelief, folding her arms in defiance of the request.

"Please?"

"Okay, fine," Her sister yielded. "But, you will never be able to fool them showing up like that. Your robe has a very nice bloody patch that drips halfway down your chest."

"Right..." Marian blinked, evaluating the garment carefully. "I could try jumping into the sea maybe? Or, maybe stop by ports. See if Varric's shop doesn't have anything I could buy..."

"If you show up to that dwarf, looking like that, our father will be the first person he visits."

"Maybe," Marian rubbed her chin, trying to decide if 'that dwarf' would turn her in so callously.

In the past, he had. The first day she had met him, and she had nearly taken a slaver's head off. Of course, there was no way for her to know that the trade merchant from Kirkwall, Varric, would be the very person her father had gained his employment from. Another consideration was that Varric did not know her very well either back then. Things were a little different now.

"I know you like that dwarf, Marian, but it would be folly to see him if you meant to hide that from Father," Bethany chided, apparently reading her mind.

"I don't see another option, really. If nothing else, he may have a good way to get the blood out."

"Of course he would," Bethany nodded, "since he's no pacifist. Anyone who deals in that much weaponry surely must know how to take out the stains of blood."

Marian couldn't tell if that was admonishment or praise from her sister, so she let it go. She rather wanted to salvage the robes she owned, so decided that a visit to the port would be a good idea.

"I'm not going down to that stinky place," Bethany scrunched up her nose at the notion of it, once more reading her sister's intentions. "I'll head home."

"I'm not leaving you," Marian balked, her jaw dropping open at the notion of it.

"I'll be fine," Bethany remarked, raising her hands and letting a crackle of lightening dance between her splayed fingertips. "Let someone try to pick on little old me, and I'll show them the might of a mage!"

Marian reached out without hesitation, grasping the hands that shocked her as she grasped them. Bethany shrieked once more, then time for the quickly reddening, burnt flesh of her sister's hands. Marian held her sister's hands until she stilled. Her eyes focused into the clear blue one's before her.

"Don't say such things." Holding onto her sister's hands, she pulled the younger girl down the streets as she made her way toward Dolan's estate.

"Why would you do that?" Bethany was angry, but she did not pull against the grip that held her firmly as Marian maintained the brisk walk. "Why did you make me hurt you?"

"Magic can hurt those around you. Friend or foe." Marian found herself quoting her father's words. Bethany didn't say anything in response, but a warm and relaxing heat eased into the tender, burnt flesh that had suffered under the cause of making a point.

When they reached the house, Marian ushered her sister towards the door. Turning, she took one step away from the gates of the estate, ready to leave for the docks.

"Messeres!" A bright and cheerful voice paused Marian in her steps, causing a strained smile to pull her lips taunt. It wasn't that she didn't welcome Varania's enthusiastic greetings, but she knew there was no way she could hide the stained bloody robes from her either. Turning slowly, Marian pressed a finger to her lips, silently pleading with the girl to keep quiet. The sight of herself must have been truly ghastly though. Varania's face went pale as a sheet, her fingers going to her lips as she silently screamed in horror.

"That's some trick," Bethany admired, before quickly tapping her fist into her palm. "Oh! Why don't you just hide out in the kitchens or something? I'll bring down a change of clothes, and you won't look such a mess when you enter the house."

"Well that is easier," Marian thought, her eyes trying to take in the view of her blood covered shoulder. A splashing sound drew Marian's gaze back up only to find another had joined the ranks of people who thought she looked like walking death. "Hello, Leto."

"Is that your blood?" He asked. Bethany laughed at the comment before she dashed into the house.

"Well yes, it is. Was. It's stopped now. The result of an unfortunate encounter today in the spider caves. Hey," Marian smiled, moving off the front of the house to hide away in the gardens, "you should have seen the other guy!"

"It was a man who did this?" Leto asked as he and Varania followed her retreating form, his brow pinching into a very noticeable frown. Marian was taken aback by it, only because he had broken the very schooled and placid look he so strenuously maintained. She found herself often trying to find ways to get that very stoic expression to lift, and here she hadn't even been try!

"No, not a man. Not as such," Marian blushed, rubbing a hand through her hair. Her fingers found and began fiddling with the red ribbon that had fortunately been on the other side of her head. It would have been destroyed, much like her flesh, if it was on her left. "A spider." When Leto gave her a quizzically raised brow. Catching the look, she raised her arms wide, "No, you don't understand. It was huge! Biggest spider I've ever seen. Fell right down on top of me."

"Does your Mage Master find this kind of training... Fruitful?" Leto asked, his arms crossing in front of his chest as Varania cautiously examined Marian's head.

"Don't worry. She gave me a good boot to the head too. I'm well reminded of how stupid I was today," Marian said the last as she felt her face being turned around to face Varania.

"Do you hurt? Do you need some tea? I know something that easies pain."

"Varania~" Leto gave an unspoken warning, which only brought Marian's attention onto the comment more.

"Why would you know such a thing?" Marian asked, blatantly now ignoring the angered elf farther away.

"Leto sometimes needs~"

"Enough! It is obvious that she is fine. You needn't dote so on her, Sister."

"Hey, maybe I like having her dote on me? Makes me feel special," Marian smiled as his scowl deepened. Yes, once his mask broke it was much more fun to poke at him, "Anyways, I don't need any tea Varania. Some water would be nice though. Also," her finger gestured to her robes, "you wouldn't know a way to get blood out, would you?"

"Oh, yes, indeed I have some soaps that will lift it out if I applied while it's still wet."

"Do I even want to know?" Marian asked, her frown returning the one she was receiving from Leto. He had the decency to look away at that, but he still cursed under his breath.

Twice Marian had patched him up, from goodness knows what. The first night, shortly after coming to Minrathous. Then again, just a couple months ago. What bothered Marian, was that the injures seemed to have been even worse than before. In addition, when she healed him, she felt old injures hiding under the fresh ones. She didn't ask permission, nor bother to inform him that she'd healed those as well. As well as she could. He'd looked pale when she'd finished, pain written in his eyes, but he never complained. The next day though, he looked better than he had in months.

It worried Marian, because she worried that she would end up on the other side of Leto one day. She had joined the city guard, and Leto was doing something which sustained severe injuries. Injuries he kept hidden. She hated to think about it, and was grateful that all her training and work thus far had been patrols outside the city. The Battle Mages worked with the guards, but they focused on protecting the lands outside the city. The city itself was protected by the mundane guards. The reason, Marian gathered, was because it would be rather destructive to have mage enforcers in the city walls.

The other part that worried her, and one she took great pains to hide, was that she liked the tall, tanned elf. Casting a glance toward Leto, she felt herself flush under his scrutinizing gaze. Pulling away from Varania, she turned from the two elves, rubbing her face in her hands.

Logically, she knew she shouldn't entertain the attraction she had developed over the last year. Her body did not listen to logic though, and she more often was feeling the butterflies in her stomach when she talked with him. Her blush was starting to become a permanent feature, and by the Void it was frustrating! The logical part told her that Leto was a slave, and her family would never approve. The other part of her knew she didn't care. She didn't see either Leto or Varania a slaves.

They were the only two people she considered friends in the city.

"Pst!" Marian looked up, spying Bethany from a window above. Bethany grinned, tossing a fresh robe out the window towards Marian. Catching the bundle, Marian, set the robe down on the stone seat near the fountain as she began to remove her outer robe.

"Mistress!" Marian paused, a quizzical look at Varania. To her surprise, both Varania and Leto were blushing a bring red. Varania's eyes were like large green saucers, though Leto had turned his face away.

"I've got an under garment on," Marian said, trying to understand what was causing this reaction from the two elves.

"You're a young lady. It is improper to expose yourself so!" Varania exclaimed.

"Ah," Marian quirked a brow at the elf, tempted to state that she wasn't a 'lady' as so proclaimed.

"You should take to the stables," Leto's rough, agitated voice came from behind Varania. He still maintained his face turned to the side, his eyes finding something in the distance to fixate on. "You should not expose yourself in the open."

Marian frowned, but given that she was out numbered, she held back the protest against her questioned propriety. She did have an under garment robe under the outer coat. Taking the clothing, she went to the stables, and changed in the view of two mares and a goat.

When she returned, Varania took her soiled robes, quickly taking them away for cleaning.

"You should be more careful," Leto commented, his hands holding the now empty bucket he had dropped when he's first seen her.

"I am careful," Marian gave a lopsided smirk.

"This is not the first time you've returned injured," Leto frowned, coming beside her to give her the full brunt of his scowl.

"You're one to talk," Marian returned, her brow pinching in her own disapproval.

They stood next to each other, identical expressions held for the other. It wasn't until Marian realized that she could feel the heat of his body that she turned, moving away from him. Turning away, she quickly walked to the side entrance of the estate. She rather hated the flush her face tented to take in his presence. Especially when it made her feign defeat.

Carver returned home later that evening with their father. His short sword had been traded in last year for a broad sword. It looked almost too big for his still growing frame, but he took to the weapon eagerly. Marian supposed it was the size of then thing that attracted her brother. Part of her wondered if it wasn't some form of compensation for other departments.

She was seated in the drawing room when they entered. Her mother sat with her, her fingers sewing an embellishment into one of Bethany's robes. She kissed Malcolm in greeting, her smile lighting up the room. "Welcome home, Love."

"Aye, but it is not our home," Malcolm smiled kindly to his wife. "By week's end, though, you may use that greeting properly."

"Oh, really?" Leandra beamed up at her husband. She jumped up, wrapping arms around his neck when he nodded at her question. Marian looked up from her book, her jaw unhinged slightly at the announcement.

"Father and I have been checking out homes for rent along the docks," Carver announced with a smile. His eyes dancing to Marian for a moment before returning to his mother. The announcement earned a worried expression from Leandra.

"Oh, Malcolm, the docks?"

"Now, now, my love. We've been looking for over a year in the trade district with no luck. Property is cheaper near the docks. Besides, we have trespassed upon my friend's hospitality for long enough."

Leandra frowned, but did not protest. Marian returned her attention to the book in her lap as Malcolm tried to lay out the positive points of their future residence. Though she looked at the words, she could not focus on them.

She did not want to live by the docks of the city. The slave's warehouse was there, as were most of the slavers. She had nearly killed one when she first came to the city. With her magic even more powerful now, who is to say that she wouldn't succeed this time? Besides, if they left, she would lose the two friends she had. It wasn't until she saw a drop of water splash on the page that she realized her eyes had welled with tears. Quickly wiping away at the page, then at her face, Marian closed the book and slipped out of the drawing room.

In her heightened emotions, she did not realize that Carver had followed her until she reached her room. "We're doing this for you." His voice made her pause, her hand rested on the door's handle.

"What?" It was the only word should could bring herself to say, as she tried to bottle in the emotions that threatened to spill out of her eyes. Carver drew closer to her, his height finally over taking hers with his last growth spurt.

"Father didn't tell you?" Carver gave her a skeptical look until he read the confusion in her face. "Our host offered to let us stay indefinitely."

"What? But, Father just said~"

"On the condition that we become his family." Marian, still not following, frowned in confusion at her brother's leading tone. "By the Maker, Marian. He wanted to marry you!" Marian's feet lost their balance, her body falling into the door for support at the announcement.

"What?! No, that can't be." Marian's head swam, trying to recall any indication that Artamus would have had such an intention toward her. Carver gave her a nod, before putting a hand on her shoulder to help steady her shaking frame.

"Don't worry, Sis. It's not going to happen." Carver gave her a confident grin, before leaving her to stand dumbfounded in the hall.

TBC~

* * *

**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

Author's Note:

I debating on doing another chapter for the previous time frame, but deemed it unnecessary. I wanted to move ahead, and felt it was time. In addition, I really want to get into the Leto/Fenris/Hawke aspect of this story. Thankfully, will be more prevalent in the next chapters. Plot bunnies allowing. There's a lot of events that will be happening very quickly. I have the first arch of this story planned out, but I cannot say how long it will take to get there. I hope you enjoy the ride :)


	8. Chapter 8: The Den

**Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter 8**

**The Den**

The home they were to rent was truly everything one could expect from any place that smelled so fully of fish. The house was small, and considered haunted. The owner had been unable to rent the location for near a year before Malcolm had been directed to the man's door. Varric, her father's employer, had helped facilitate the connection when he heard his worker was looking for a place to stay.

Marian did not know if she should thank the dwarf when he was next in town, or if she should slap him for it. It was a hard choice to consider, but she had time to debate it as she scrubbed a stain in the wall of the entryway. The house had accumulated a layer of filth from sitting idle. Her mother had taken to attacking the filth, and though she had spent near a month on it, it felt as though there had been little headway. Wiping the sweat from her brown with the back of her wrist, the one thing not covered in grime, once again Marian gave the discolored wall a renewed, vigorous brushing.

"Hello, Messere?" The sound of Varania's voice caused Marian to pause mid scurb. She turned slowly, half thinking her ears were playing cruel tricks upon her. To her surprise, she saw two red haired elves pondering her quizzically, a skeptical expression easily readable across their faces. Their green eyes lingered on the well worn robes and apron that she wore now. True, this was a stark contrast from her usual clothing, or the clothing Artamus had given her. She looked like a maid.

It mattered little, for Marian grinned with joy that was bubbling up inside her chest. Jumping up, she threw her arms around Varania, surprising the elf at the embrace. Chuckling, she pulled back, patting Varania's thin shoulders as she withdrew. "Sorry," She blushed, but her smile did not falter. "I did not think I would ever see you again. Ah, well, that is to say, I'm glad to see you both!"

"We take to the Market almost every other day," Leto stated bluntly. "We visit the docks whenever we're in need of fish as well. I did not think that the notion of 'never' would have crossed your mind."

"What my brother means to say," Varania sent Leto an admonishing scowl, "is that we would have visited you sooner had we known where you lived. It was only just today when we ran into that dwarf that we learned you had taken up the haunted~ Um, well, here."

"It is not haunted, and I should know," Marian beamed, cataloging away the Varric was back in town. Waving the two inside, she wiped her hands upon her apron as she abandoned her task. "Though, there is a certain amount of filth that needs to be cleaned."

"I can help with that!" Varania grinned when they were lead into the kitchen. She set down the basket she'd held, the contents their purchases from the day.

"What? No, don't be silly." Marian chided, brushing off two chairs before offering them a seat at the worn wooden table. "You are my guests!"

Leto and Varania shared an uncertain look before accepting the seats. Marian tapped a finger to her lips as she pondered the near empty contents of the cupboards. "I'm sorry, we have some dried dates. I can offer you some tea as well."

"You needn't~"

"Anything you share would be fine," Leto cut his sister off, giving her a sharp look. Marian didn't know what to make of the two sometimes. Pulling out the dried dates, and pouring tea, Marian placed the offerings before her guests.

"So, how are you doing?" Marian smiled at the elves who looked so obviously out of their element. It took them both a moment to decide that it was actually 'okay' to eat and drink from the cups and plates before them. Marian filled herself a cup, then joined them at the table.

"We are fine," Varania nodded, gingerly sipping at her own tea. "We were worried that we had not seen you. Leto here was starting to worry you'd finally met your match against one of the spiders in the mountains!"

"Ha!" Marian laughed as Leto frowned at his sister's candid declaration. "No, I've had a little time off to help my family move. I've only been battling the much smaller spiders that hide in the corners of this place."

"I did not know if your brother wished to continue to spare," Leto said as he sustained his glare at his sister. "I was willing to continue the training. If he so wished, that is."

"Really?" Marian asked, slightly surprised. "I mean, I'm sure he'd like that. He's improved so much since he started sparing with you. Though, the benefit seems to be one sided."

"I heard that!" Came Carver's gruff reply as he entered the kitchen to join the trio. "Training benefits both of us." Carver crossed his arms, and Leto gave the younger man a slight nod. Marian sighed, taking a sip from her tea rather than argue the point as her brother and Leto exchanged a brief greeting.

It was obvious to anyone that Leto was very skilled with a blade. When Carver had caught the elf in his morning routine once, he'd challenged him to a duel. Marian had held an splendid view of the battle from the window in the library. Not that she meant watched Leto practice his morning routine. No, it was coincidence. That was at least what she told herself.

Regardless, It ended quickly. Very quickly. Though, Marian had noticed, Leto had been careful not to harm her brother as he disarmed him. She didn't think she'd have shown such restraint had he come upon her in the barracks demanding a fight. In the months that had followed, Carver had learned from Leto, and in that regard she was rather proud of him. He was absorbing anything Leto could teach him like a sponge. What Leto gained from it, she honestly could not say.

"I could come by tomorrow, if that's alright?" Carver asked, and Leto gave another slight nod.

"Our Master has expressly made a point to all the guards and slaves that your family is to be considered as honored guests should you ever visit." Varania was all smiles, but Marian decided that the rippling of her tea was far too interesting to peel her eyes away from.

She still had not been told anything by their father about the proposal Artamus had made on her behalf. The older mage had spoken to her kindly before they left his estate, but he gave no hint as to the intentions Carver had stated. Part of her wondered if it was a lie, but the other part knew it wasn't. Carver, for all his faults, was not a liar. In addition, the parting of their father from his old friend had been more then strained. It had felt that a cord ran between the two, and should it have been plucked, there would have been a fight to behold.

No, Marian considered, it was probably true.

"If you do not mind the intrusion, my sister has expressed a desire to pay you futures visits," Leto directed to Marian, catching her attention back from the tea in her cup.

"Yes, please!" Marian urged, maybe too strongly. "Both of you I consider good friends. You are welcome anytime."

Both the elves blushed at once, turned their identical green eyes upon the other in slight confusion at how to respond to such a compliment. Marian was still not aware the boundary she was crossing by calling slaves friends. It had left the elves speechless. Had it not been for Leto deeming it more of an insult to oppose the offered food and drink, they would not have dared to sit in such a casual manner with her either. However, to their pleasant surprise, they'd long ago learned that Marian did not treat them as slaves. It was welcome, but it did leave some confusion on their part on how to react.

"We can't stay," Varania said, bowing as she rose, "we are expected back shortly. Shall we call on you tomorrow then?"

"Yes, by all means." Marian rose, inclining her head in return, "I think that would make my day! I will try to have something... More to eat."

"Oh, don't trouble~"

"Thank you," Leto cut off his sister. He bowed to both Carver and Marian before he pulled his still horizontally inclined sister from the room.

"They're very odd, aren't they?" Carver commented, rubbing his chin.

Marian sighed, following them to the door and waving them off. Her smile faltered when she saw her father, his eyes watching the retreating elves as he neared the house. "Welcome home, Father," Marian offered to his thoughtful frown.

"They are Dolan's slaves," Malcolm commented, his expression not faltering as he watched their distant forms. "What does Dolan want?"

"They came to see me," Marian frowned, feeling slightly indignant at the unspoken accusation of her friends having ulterior motives for their visit.

"Those two?" Malcolm turned a curious eye to his daughter who crossed her arms and set her face hard at his questioning glance.

"They are my friends." Malcolm looked to protest, but paused, thinking about his response before he gave a small nod.

"Aye, that they are, I'm sure Sparrow," Malcolm gave his daughter a kiss on her head, patting her shoulder lightly. "I worry though, because their fate is so set."

"Because they are slaves?" Marian asked, somehow more fuel being added to her internal fire.

"Yes," her father said plainly. "I don't want to see you hurt." Marian pulled away from the hand on her shoulder, instead returning to the stain on the wall. Malcolm watched her, concern etching hard lines in his face but he let it go.

Marian had more guests that day then just the two elves though. It was not much later on then she soon found a large shadow blocking the sun from her view of that horrid wall. Turning, she was startled to find four dark, armor clad warriors pushing in on each other in her doorway.

"Aye, wench, tell your master~" One of them started, a broad chested man who looked built of a barrel. A swift uppercut under his jaw stopped the large guard in his tracks.

"Messere _Hawke_," the thin blond who had given the uppercut strained her name loudly. This was for the one guard holding his jaw. "Please, we have come to ask you~"

"To beg you!" A shorter, fatter guard piped up.

"Please, come back!" The fourth man, taller than the others, dropped to his knees, his hands braced in prayer.

Malcolm stood off to the side, the noise in his entryway drawing him to the spectacle that left his eldest daughter in a blank stupor. "I... I don't understand..."

"Please, Messere, our lives~"

"Our very souls~"

"Hang in the balance!" They were finishing each other's sentences with more emphasis and gusto then the other had started, making the scene quite unusual. Marian placed two fingers on the bridge of her nose, and counted to ten.

"Would you please make sense?" The agitation in her tone drew the men instantly to attention, and toward slightly more coherent discourse.

"It's Vivianna," The thin blond one said, turning to the chubby guard to his left.

"She's gone crazy! She's been riding everyone to breaking point." The fat one said, his eyes wide in memory.

"She been getting worse since you've been gone," The tallest one said, cringing in recollection.

"You have to come back, please!"

"I'm not gone. I've just taken a leave to help fix up this place~"

"We'll help!" The round guard offered, grabbing his belt as he walked into the home, grunting as he picked up the brush from her soapy bucket.

"Yes, of course! It is the least we can do," The tall one said, pulling out the rag that lay on the bucket's brim, already bent down to begin cleaning the floor. The sight caused Marian to smile, if only for the sheer silliness of seeing grown men clean while fully armored. A different kind of battle indeed.

"If your friends here are willing to aid us, I think we could spare you," Malcolm comment from her side, an amused grin on his face. Marian shot him a dismayed look before she sighed, and gave a slight nod. They cheered as she went into her 'new' room, and changed into her regular casting robes.

The four guards waved her goodbye as Leandra began to assign the men various tasks about the house.

To Marian's not so much surprise, when she finally made her way to the guard's barracks, she had to duck a flying chair.

"You're all so useless!" Vivianna's voice rang clear through the room of cowering guards. "If you cannot do your job, then resign now! I have no need of such ineptitude."

"You seem more tightly strung than usual," Marian commented, crossing her arms as she tentatively walked to the mage who had a small collection of broken furniture strewn in a circle about her. The guards that were in the barracks were cowering behind whatever remaining furniture had yet to be broken.

"I'm tired of dealing with these-these children!" Vivianna frowned, trying to hide her surprise at Hawke's sudden appearance. "What are you doing here?" She finally asked, irritation still clear on her face, but she had stopped yelling.

"Just checking in," Marian tilted her head. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not now, at any rate." Vivianna's shoulders slumped, her head tilted as she took a deep breath. "There's been an issue, within the city walls. It happened _in_ the city. Which means that we cannot act as we are relegated to matters that extend _outside_ the city."

"Oh, and this is why you're attacking all the guards?" The realization hit Marian, and she also quickly realized there was nothing she could do to stave off Vivianna's rage.

"Battle Mages are to keep the city safe, yet how am I to do such a thing with both hands tied behind my back?! If they do not allow me to exercise authority in the city walls, then I must rely on these _simpletons_ to do so for me!" Marian watched as the tirade died down, a small frown pulling on Vivianna's lips. "No," She spoke softly, her eyes lost in thought, "it is a silly thing. You know," Vivianna started, directing Marian toward her office in the back of the barracks. The guards mouthed silent 'Thank you!'s to her as she was lead away by the temperamental battle mage. "There was a time when Battle Mages were the guards of the city. In it and about it."

Vivianna closed the door to her office, a sparsely decorated room designed for efficiency. Marian knew Vivianna to be a woman who liked the finer things, as the bottle of Tevinter wine she produced from her desk proved. However, she also knew that her master took her work seriously. Taking her usual seat, a simple box seat by the window, Marian waited for the wine glass to be handed to her. She swirled the liquid, smelling it as she had when Vivianna had first taught her how to appreciate the drink. Guzzling the wine had earned her a hike to the mountain peak with all their gear. Later she learned some of the gear was rocks, but by the end she'd been so exhausted she didn't care.

"Were you one of them?" Marian asked, then flushed when she saw the shocked look from Vivianna. Thankfully the silver haired woman laughed, pouring her own glass before she sat down behind her desk.

"I am not so old as you may think, my young apprentice," Vivianna swirled her wine as well, breathing in as she sipped the drink. "I speak of a time long ago. Before I knew I was a mage. Back at that time, the law was something to be feared in the city. But, at the time, that is like putting a spark in a box of matches. Even to this day, we do not know what caused it. I still remember, though." Vivianna swirled a silvery lock on her finger, her eyes following it's movement's in the light. "The city burned. Many died, and many disappeared. Some of the Magisters set to putting out the fires. Had it not been for them, much of Minrathous would have been lost. The council decreed that Battle Mages could not use magic to enforce law while in the city. So," She lifted her glass, swigging down the rest in the same manner that had earned Marian that hike, "you see, it is a foolish thing to wish jurisdiction inside these walls. Do you not agree?"

Marian simple nodded. She'd never heard the older mage talk so much about herself, not in all the time she'd studied under her. Vivianna poured herself another glass, and this one, and the next, she sipped in silence.

When the sun had gone down, and the snoring Vivianna was lifted by still terrified guards to the cot in her quarters, Marian dismissed herself from the barracks. She got no more just down the steps when the door of the barracks opened behind her, and four men piled out into the training yard behind her. It was easy to identify the men who had set upon her in her home, mostly for their oddly contrasting heights and shapes. She glanced at the rising glow of the moon, realizing how truly late it had grown.

"Thank you!" The men shouted, in unison. The relief was evident on their faces, and Marian gave them a warm, and slightly intoxicated, smile.

"No, it's alright. She just has a lot on her shoulders," Marian waved her hand dismissively as she turned to go home. She stumbled, but not from the wine she had been consuming.

Two men on each side of her and come at her in a pincher attack, their hands holding her about the arms. Marian began to pull away, but the jovial smiles and cheers caused her to pause. It took her muddled mind a moment to realize that it was her name they were cheering as they practically lifted her down the street. Marian felt a smile pull on her lips as they sung the praise of the great 'Hawke'.

"Let's go to the Den!" The tall one said, his long arms waving in the air to a cheer.

"Yeay!" The rest returned.

"Our treat, tis' the least we can do."

"You saved us!" Came the excited fat one's interjection.

Marian knew she'd heard their names before, but since she never worked with any set of guards specifically, she had a hard time remembering their names. She rather wanted to address them without saying, 'Fat', 'Tall', "Broad", and "Thin". How had such eclectic group of friends formed?

Before she could think to protest their idea, or remember that her family might worry about her at this late hour, she found herself lead down an ally, and to a heavy black door. One of the guards, 'Tall', rapped on the door. A plate slide out, and a pair of beady eyes glowered at the group. The Broad guard grunted something, and soon the door opened for them.

Marian was ushered in past the door man, who was actually a very large Qunari. He said something Marian didn't understand, but the tall one patted her on the shoulder, "She's with us!" He gave a curt nod, to which the Qunari simply gave a look that implied he viewed them all as ridiculous. Maybe that was an alright expression, she reasoned, because soon they were ushered inside.

Once she oriented to the dimmer light of the place, Marian found herself in a rather dingy looking, but very large and active bar. One of her escorts, or abductors, lead her to the bartender. His armored hand slapped five silvers on the wooden surface, as he pointed a finger at the young Hawke's head.

"A drink, for me and my friends. Your best ale for the lass!" The bar tender, a very rough looking man who had one green eye, the other covered by an eye patch, set to evaluating the young woman before him.

"She old enough to hold her liquor? Hey, isn't it past your bed time, little Lady?" The bartender smirked, as he set down the glass he'd just cleaned.

"I'll take what _he's_ buying," Marian set her jaw, pulling up a stool as she stared down the bartender. She'd tried to embody the spirit of her mentor in the commanding look she gave the older man. It either worked, or he didn't feel like arguing, because he filled and set a mug full of foaming amber liquid in front of her. Four more mugs of a paler ale followed, and the men around her lifted their glasses, offering a toast in her honor as the knocked back the first round. The bartender was watching her, a smirk hidden under his thick beard. Returning the look for a defiant glare of her own, she knocked back the drink as well.

She'd only ever had wine with her family, or with her teacher. She'd never had ale before. She didn't care for the taste in the least, so sucking it down quickly seemed the better option. After she'd emptied the glass, however, she instantly felt a small rush to her head. Taking in a breath, she set down the glass on the bar. To her dismay one of her newly made 'friends' pointed at her mug, ordering her, and the entourage, another round.

After two more times of that folly, Marian submitted to the bartender's smirk, and refused the next round. The men about her cried in dismay, but continued to order another round for themselves. Marian looked about the bar, her eyes taking in the patrons and the makeup of her surroundings.

If she had thought they meant to lure her into a reclusive place, one where she may need to break that rule Vivianna had mentioned, she was utterly wrong. The bar, if that's what it truly was, was packet. There were all kinds of people inside no less. Dwarves, Qunari, humans, and those who she knew to be mages. Some were finely dressed ladies, and Marian knew them to be nobles, and some were in little better then rages. She sat there, in a stupor by the drink and the strange melding of classes she'd yet to see in the city.

There was a constant swelling roar in the crowd, a hum of conversation and yelling. Marian noticed that while some seemed to be occupied with their drinks, or company, many were looking off into the center of the room. The obviously more rich of the mob sat in large booths that were raised to give them a better height, or view, into the room. A sharp chiming sound rang out, and the rumbling in the crowd died down with an audible grown of disapproval. One dwarf stood up above the crowd, yelling something at the throng. Several people raised white slips into the air as they made their way to the dwarf, while others tore their own slips in half, loud cursing on their lips.

"What is this? What are they doing?" Marian turned to the men who'd lead her to this strange place.

"Ah, they're placing bets. Are you a betting sort of lass?" The 'Thin' one asked, sliding up to her as she craned her head to try and see what everyone was looking at. "We took you to the right place if you are. Didn't know that was the case. Just figured you might enjoy a show."

Marian, carefully, stood up on her stool, giving her a full height above the crowd. She was aware of the men around her crowing in fear, being her to come down. She even felt their hands trying to steady her shaking legs. She was shaking, and she lost her step, slipping from her perch into the arms of at least three of the men who had taken her to this place.

"Where have you taken me?!" Marian whispered hoarsely, her voice being caught up in the constricting of her throat. They didn't hear her over the roar of the crowd as the next chime drew the mob's cheer. Shoving the men who held her away, she rushed through the crowd, pushing through the throng until she was on the edge of a shimmering dome of magic. It was what lay inside the dome, the arena built into the basement floor of the building that drew her attention. Even more so, the red haired elf who was bleeding inside it.

"Leto!" Marian yelled, but her voice was lost in the cheering of the crowd. Leto didn't look up, but she could tell it was him, even though he stood under a shimmering shield of magic. He shook his head once, spitting out red as he raised a notched sword in his hands. The arena was larger than she thought could fit inside such a place, but it was apparently the feature as the whole place was built with this at its focus.

Two gates lifted off the circular room, and the howl that came out drew another cheer from the crowd. Marian froze, her blood going cold as she watched two large, gray worgs charge into the arena. Their red eyes glowed, as shadow flittered about their paws.

One of the beasts dove in, it's teeth nearly taking Leto's sword arm, but the elf ducked, nimbly sliding out of the way. The other worg charged in on his retreat, aiming to catch his pray while his balance was off. Leto moved with a easy turn, slipping around and letting the other worg dive harmlessly past him.

Some of the crowd booed, a few cheered. "They're betting on his life?!" Marian breathed out, the last of the breath she'd had in her lungs.

"No, not so much his life," Came a voice that caused Marian to jump away at it's cold familiarity. "Well, some could bet on that," The lavender eyed girl cooed, smiling at Marian's reaction. "Actually, the bet is on how many blows he takes. It's a much more interesting game that way."

"Hadriana," Marian growled, her anger seating into place when she focused her shaky vision on the girl.

"Yes, Me," Hadriana huffed, still keeping close to Marian, her arm slipping about the other girl's waist to hold her close. "I'm surprised at you Serrah Hawke," Hadriana grinned, her eyes alight with amusement. "I had wondered if you had a taste for blood. I guess you and I have something in common." Another loud cheer from the crowd and Marian forgot about the woman pressing near her, her eyes searching out Leto.

She found him, and the cheer was for a long claw marked gash that had sliced his forearm. Leto's stance fell, stumbling as more crimson fluid dripped from other wounds about his arms, legs, and chest. "Enough of this!" Marian spat, raising her hands and dropping them on the magic shield wall before her. She tried to push through, but was as if she pushed against solid stone.

"You can't get through like that," Hadraina laughed, her pale hand slipping under Marian's arm as she tried to raise the girl to her feet. "It's far more powerful than anything you could hope to break. It was built to withstand entrance, even by mages. Do you crave battle so much? Is that what it is to be a Battle Mage? I've wondered~"

"Shut up!" Marian spat, shoving the girl off of her arm, as she dropped once more to her knees. Her fingers felt about the shield, feeling its edge. She just needed a seam. Everything had a seam...

A worg's attack stopped her search, as she screamed and the crowd cheered. Leto look to take the beast's bite in his jugular as it flew at him. In the last second his arm was between himself and the worg, and the blade was buried down the beat's throat. There was a pause, and a disgruntled groan hung in the air, though it was speckled with a couple cheers. The other worg looked afraid at the sight and smell of its kind's blood. It backed up, it' hackles raised as it snarled at Leto.

Leto did not advance, he shifted his feet, bracing for the attack that would no doubt come. When the beast charged, he waited for it to near. Once it was close, he sprung to the side, rolling away. He miss calculated though, for the beast spun and swung at his retreating form. A clawed paw swiped into his back. Leto stumbled at the end of his roll, hissing in pain as he forced his body to stand once more. The creature was frenzied now, and it was already charging on him, ready to finish the kill. Letting gravity aid him, he fell back as the beast fell on him. It's jaw was poised just over his throat when they landed. Had it not been for the blade that had severed the beast's spine through his throat, then Leto would have fell permanently. Using strength he knew he didn't have, he rolled the creature off himself. Placing his bare foot on the creature's body, he held it in place as he pulled his sword free.

He looked to the cage master, a very short human who sat down on the lower level, a heavy iron caged gate dividing him from the fight. He gave Leto a nod, and went up to pull one of the rings about him. A single door opened this time, and Leto struggled not to stumble out of the pit. Once he was outside the pit, a safe distance from the views of the patrons, he stumbled and fell onto the ground. A woman sat at the end of the corridor, she looked up at him and fiddled with some bottles that she had gathered about on her table.

"It'll be five silvers for three poultices. I'll throw in the one that'll numb the pain for free," She hummed, giving him a grin, "since you're a cute little knife ear."

"I'll take one," Leto said, handing the coins over to the woman who always charged far more then the potions worth.

"You'll need more than one to stop all the bleeding," The woman cooed. "Besides, you should have more than enough to pay for it from your cuts tonight! How many hits did you take? You took enough to get a pretty penny from it."

"One," Leto stated blandly, too tired to scowl at the woman. Digging into his belt, Leto set down his sword as he pulled a roll of linen free. The woman gave a dismissive sneer at the cloth.

"Bandages will never fix you up as good as my poultice," She dropped one of the bottles on the ground though, and stalked off to her chair. Fairly angered at the lack of sales.

Leto drank the potion, and gave the concoction time to work. Counting, he waited until he felt the pain in his arms and back lessen. Shifting the cloth about his arms, Leto wrapped the cloth around his chest, slowly, and rather painfully as it still hurt to move. Tearing it when he'd felt he'd had it tied about as well as he could manage, he used the remainder of the cloth on his forearm, and the gash that still lay in the flesh.

He would need another potion, to be sure, but he had some hidden in the loft of the barn under his bed. He'd take two more once he was home.

The woman gave him a dismissive wave as he left, and the next contestant took his place. The entrance for those who competed was off the side of the Den. It helped to keep them from the eyes of the patrons. Leto made his way slowly down the ally, using the wall to help brace himself upright.

"Let me go!" The not so distant sound of a woman's voice caused him to pause. Sighing, Leto pulled free his sword from his hip. As a slave, he was not allowed to attack a member of the city. However, he wasn't one to let a woman's cry go unanswered either.

He turned back, and found himself in an ally not far from the Den. The scene he discovered made he stop in his tracks.

TBC~

**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

Author's Note:

Bit of a longer note to go with a slightly longer chapter. Sorry to end it like that, but I had to end it. I'll try to have the next chapter up soon. In answer to some question; Over a year has passed, nearly two. When the story started Hawke was fourteen, and now she is nearing sixteen. Though she is still very young, I think that in the standards of the world of Thedas, marriage may be done by this age, though I doubt often among more well to do families. In some ways I see the setting of the world as a bit medieval. Sorry if there was any confusion. Also, there is a reason for Artamus asking to marry Hawke, and I hope to answer that in due time as well, maybe next chapter? Kudos to those who've suppositioned on plot, I love reading your thoughts!


	9. Chapter 9: Ties that Bind

**Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter 9**

**Ties that Bind**

Leto took in a deep breath, then another. He knew this would be the end of him. For a slave to attack a citizen in Minrathous, the penalty was death. For a slave to attack a guard? Death would be a mercy. The blond haired guard was staring at the blade drawn across his throat, his eyes wide, and Leto shared some of that surprise as well. Why did he do this? Images of his sister and mother flashed through his head, and he cursed aloud.

If he let them take him, maybe that would satisfy. If he killed them, he could run, but his family would face retribution. Stuck without options, Leto released the terrified guard, shoving him away. He'd worked so hard, and yet now he'd just given it all up. The reason for his folly came up to him, stumbling as she tried reach her 'savior'.

She held a wobbly arm out to him, and in instinct he tried to hold her hand, to steady her. She clumsily slapped his hand away. She reached back, her amber eyes floating in her pale face, and she slapped him weakly across the jaw.

It really didn't hurt, but Leto's mouth dropped in confusion and surprise. "What do you think you're doing?!" Marian growled, her balance shifting uneasily on her feet.

"Saving you?" Leto hissed, his eyes taking in the knocked out guards around him. The one who was still conscious had not left, but also made no move to come at him. He too shared a confused look that was on everyone's face.

"Tall guy!" Marian snapped, spinning and nearly falling as she glared at the guard. "This is what happens when you put hands on a 'Lady'. Get it? Now, try to get these guys back to the barracks or so help me..."

"But, we just didn't want you wandering around the streets like... Like this. We didn't mean~" Marian cursed, her magic swelling and causing a shift in the wind. The guard gave a quick nod, and moved to try and wake his companions to flee.

"Are you drunk?" Leto asked, as the last wobble in her legs did not subside. He only just reacted out in time to catch her as she fainted. Her breath hit his cheek, and she smelled of ale and wine. While she appeared to be drunk, she also appeared to be ill. She was sweating, and her skin held the hue of the moon. Leto frowned, his hand brushing a lock of her raven hair from her face.

A sharp clapping sound drew Leto's eyes off the pale form in his arms and over to an older looking man with graying hair and sharp features.

"That, was impressive," He said, a smile pulling at his lips as he grinned through his trimmed beard.

"Master," Came a woman's voice, and Leto could easily tell that the woman who called this man master was no slave. He knew them by their garb as mages, but the man was apparently a master mage. Leto turned his eyes down, but he didn't release the girl in his arms. He shouldn't be touching her, but was he to let her fall?

"Messeres," Leto stated blandly, his blank mask slipping into place.

"I was just complimenting this elf on his work. He did well against worgs, but he is obviously more skilled then what was done back there. Tell me, little wolf, do they pay you to take a certain number of hits?"

"Yes, but it is not rigged as such," Leto amended, "I am paid the more I can take. It is only meant to make it more interesting."

"Well, it cost me money," The mage frowned, "I had bet on you taking none."

Leto bowed his head, unsure if this was a compliment or a reproach for lost coins. Luckily the woman in his arms stirred, drawing away the attention of all about them. Marian rubbed her hand into her hand into her hair, her eyes unfocused.

"Are you alright?" The mage asked, as the woman in purple robes frowned and crossed her arms. Marian did not appear to hear him, or even see the mages that near. Her eyes tried to focus, but finding it fruitless, she closed them once more. She growled out a curse, and it caused the man to laugh.

"Well, what did you expect?" The woman snapped, her face pinched in a scowl. "I told her she couldn't break it. Maybe next time you will heed my advice."

"Hadriana, give me a lyrium potion," The man said, holding his hand out to the ever scowling woman.

"What?" She looked like she'd been slapped when he gave her an impatient glower. Slipping a hand into a small pouch about her belt, she pulled out a blue bottle of liquid and handed it to her Master. The man strode over to where Leto held Marian, and directed the elf to tilt her head back. Leto, did as requested and soon the potion was poured down her throat. Marian gagged, coughing on the thing as her eyes flew open. First she saw the red haired elf she'd come in search of, then she saw the mage.

She pushed away from him, and stood quickly. The action only drew an even more amused smirk from Danarius. "Messere," Marian gave a small bow, unnerved and still a little confused.

"Feeling a little better?" Danarius asked as he rose as well. "I was commissioned to place the protection spell you just tried to dismantle," Danarius grinned at her shocked expression. "You will have to forgive me, I was watching you. You were doing a very good job, but there's a trap on that spell. It drains your mana should you cast on it. A little trick, if you will, to keep meddling mages out. Though I must say I'm impressed. I'd not thought you could be such a well to the Fade. You put a crack in the ward before it drained you. I shall have to see to fixing that."

"I'm sorry, Messere," Marian paled once more, but this time not from her drained mana. The potion they'd given her had helped her not to feel like death was clutching at her bones. However, it did little to stave off the chill she felt from the mage before her.

"Don't be!" Danarius grinned, "That was quite a show. I rather enjoyed someone attempting to challenge my rune weaving. Maybe I was too rash before, when I told your father I would not train you."

Hadriana gasped, audibly, but Marian was quick to respond, "I have a Master Mage, Messere."

"Yes, Vivian. True," Danarius rubbed his fingers through his beard in thought, as Marian grew increasingly nervous.

"It is late. I'm sorry I must go," She bowed again, giving a wave to Leto to follow her.

"Yes young one. I'll see to your friends here," Danarius started to draw a blue aura about himself as he went to one of the fallen guards who was snoring loudly. "Oh, and elf! I do hope to see you're sword work in the tournament. It would be fine to see a wolf amongst all those sheep."

Leto bowed just as he was pulled by a hand that grasped his in a cold sweat.

"Leto," Marian dared, looking over her shoulder to make sure they were no longer in view of the magister, "What were you doing in there?"

"What do you mean?"

"In that... Pit! Is that why you keep getting hurt? You're fighting beasts for some drunkards sport?!"

Leto did not offer a response, and Marian was honestly too tired to press for one. Instead, she turned on him, and threw her arms about his neck. Leto flinched, his hands raising in defense as he tried to process what was happening. She gave him a look that quelled any protest before she started to glow blue.

"Wha~ No, don't! Didn't he just say you'd drained your mana?" Leto protested, trying to keep the her body from pressing into his. As he tried to pull her off, she only melded even closer, her grip like a vice. Leto flushed, stammered, and even begged her to release him. He was a man, after all, and there were certain things that would be easily noticeable soon if he did not gain some distance.

"Shut up!" Marian commanded, her eyes pinching closed as she ran a wave of energy through him. He was bleeding, and she could smell it. She focused first on his back, the largest wound, calling on the flesh to mend. As she went down the list of major wounds, the light she radiated eased the pain and stiffness away from his frame. This time, unlike the others, it didn't hurt when her energy went through him. It was odd, and in a way made him worry. Usually it was so strong it was searing. Now, though, it was like a soft, warm rain.

"I'm fine, now," Leto commented softly as he carefully detached the girl's body off of his own. Taking a breath to steady himself, he evaluated the mage before him. "Are you alright?"

"I feel... Like I just hiked a mountain top," Marian smiled at him, her brow beading with sweat as she weakly tittered on her feet.

"We should get you home," Leto said, pulling her close and raising her arm over his shoulder. When she quirked a brow in question at him, he sighed. "It's this, or I can carry you?"

"No, it's fine," Marian nodded, as she leaned into his side. His arm slipped behind her back, holding her for support as they walked. They stayed that way, in a strained silence before Marian could bear it no more, "Why are you doing it?"

"Mistress, please," Leto turned his head away, trying to focus on getting the night over with.

"If you don't tell me, I'm going to stop you. I'll stalk that bar every night, and catch you. That, or maybe I'll burn the place down. It reeks of ale, I bet it's soaked with it. Just a small spark~"

"I need the money," Leto said at length, cursing as he wondered how wise it was to tell her of his long standing plan. He'd been working on it for years, and it was so close to coming to fruition. However, he couldn't have her burn down the Den, and he suspected that she truly meant the threat with the deathly look that had hardened her features.

"Money?" Marian prompted, "If it's money you need, I can help you out with that! I'm just an apprentice at the moment, but when I'm graduated I'll earn a pretty good wage. Also, I'm sure there's work I can find on the side. Varric, that dwarf my father works for, seems to know lots of things~"

"No, Hawke. I've managed to save almost enough anyways. I don't need help."

"What are you going to use it for?"

"My family," Leto all but whispered as he bit his lip. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. He didn't know what he expected, but the comment earned a very serious look he'd from the girl at his side.

"You're going to buy them out from Artamus." Marian gave an approving nod. "If that's the case, then I must help you, Leto. How can I not?"

"I told you, I almost have enough as it is~"

"Almost isn't enough!" Marian straightened, pulling her arm free as they neared her house. Leto felt her pull away, feeling the warmth of her body depart, but did not expect her to grasp his arm in a tight hug. "Come in," She hurried over to her house, dragging the elf through the aid of adrenalin. Adrenalin, which now, helped in overriding her weariness. "I keep a coin purse hidden under my mattress! I have five sovereigns in there. Will that be enough?"

Leto protested as they reached her door though, pulling his arm free. "I do not think your father, or mother, will approve of you bringing an elf slave into your room!" Marian paused, a confused look crossing her face before a heated blush over took it.

"Well, then wait here!" She commanded, turning once to point at the spot where he stood sternly. "If you are not here when I come back, I'll track you down. I know where you live."

Leto was perplexed by this strange threat; Of course she knew where he lived! Raising palms in defeat, he shook his head as she disappeared into the house.

As she had promised, she returned quickly, a small bag in her hands. "They're all asleep," Marian murmured, jingling the coins for Leto to hear as she smiled. "How much do you need to free your family?"

"The money won't free my family," Leto stated, as he crossed his arms. "Artamus will never sell my mother, and I don't think he intends to part with my sister or me either."

"I don't understand," Marian frowned at the explanation.

"The money I've collected is to front my admittance into the Tournament. I need enough to lay for admittance, and enough to lay for Artamus should I fall. Since I'm his property."

"You're not property!" Marian frowned, but sighed. "Okay, why don't you explain this to me so I understand?"

To her surprise, an event happened in Minrathous every five years, and one that was shortly coming in a few months. A tournament was held and any could enter. Interestingly enough, the event was not for mages to compete, but for the mundane of the city. Everyone was allowed to enter, even slaves. They would have to have someone who fronted their admittance, and the money to lay down for the master of the slave should they die.

The dying part instantly twisted Marian's lips into a frown.

"Is this a tournament where people fight to the death?"

"No," Leto shook his head, "not usually, at any rate. The winner of the competition will earn favor with any of the magisters of the city. The warrior and the pot, the money placed for the entrance fees, goes to whichever magister claims it. Unless the magister is challenged by another for the winnings. If they are challenged, then they have a duel to decide who the winner will be."

"Wait, what do you mean when you say the winner goes to whichever magister _claims_ him?"

"The tournament is not meant for people who have options," Leto commented, his green eyes focusing on something near his shifting feet. "The winner will gain a position under one of the magisters. In exchange, a boon of their choosing is granted. That is the real prize of winning."

"It sounds like a wedding," Marian frowned. Leto blinked, confused and a little flustered at this strange observation, "This magister would get you, and a 'dowry', and in you get a boon in return?"

"Magisters rule this city, Hawke," Leto said flatly, becoming frustrated. "To have a boon from a magister is like having a wish for whatever is in their power to grant. Magisters have _a lot_ of power."

"And you want your family to be free." Marian thought, tapping a finger to her chin. "I don't understand why we can't just pay Dolan to let your family go free. I'm sure my father could talk to him. There may be no need for any of this risky tournament stuff!"

"Artamus bleeds my mother," Leto's words cut through Marian, partially because she couldn't believe what she had just heard. "I found out when I was but ten. He casts blood magic, and he uses my mother's blood to cast. He think..." Leto frowned, old anger constricting his throat. "She said it was because she has a connection to the fade. The magic works better if you bleed a mage."

"Your mother is a mage?" Marian breathed, confused and floored all at once. How had she not picked up on that? Also, how had neither her, nor her father, caught onto Artamus using blood magic? It was true that she'd never seen him cast, but still!

"She is, but untrained, and still a slave. Mage slaves are worth a lot of money. I know he will not part with her. However, if a magister declares them to be free, then he will have no choice. He must release them."

"It's a lot to take in. Are you sure he's a blood mage?" Marian was instantly sorry she'd asked the question with the ire in his eyes and voice clearly directed to her now.

"Yes, I'm sure he's a blood mage! I saw him. I watched, hidden under a table, as his dagger cut into her."

"Look, I didn't mean to doubt you. Here," Marian shoved the purse into Leto's chest, seeing as how his hands were currently clenched fists. "Will it be enough? Do you need more?"

"...No, it is more than enough," Leto said, taking a breath and cooling his agitation. "However, I cannot accept it. I told you this already."

"Then accept it for Varania, and your mother!" Marian begged, pushing the bag into him once more before releasing it from her grasp. Leto caught the small purse, his brow stitched in a pinched frown.

"And what of your family, Hawke?"

"Hey," Marian smirked, flexing her arm in a pose that Leto didn't comprehend other than to find it silly. "We're Hawkes! Don't worry about us." Marian laughed, and patted Leto on the chest when she saw the hesitation he held as he looked at the purse in his hands. "Please? It would be a favor to me. I've always wanted to help you, and your family."

"You have? Why?" Leto raised a curious green eye to Marian, his red bangs hiding his other eye under their thick fringes.

"I like you, of course," Marian blurted, then instantly paled. "I mean I like your sister! Your sister, and you! I mean," Marian was surprised when she heard a deep, throaty chuckle in the midst of her embarrassed explanation.

"Alright, I will accept this gift. However, it will be as a loan. Alright?" Marian gave a stupid nod. She stood there for a moment, dumbly, until she realized by the looks he was giving her door he was waiting for her to go inside.

"Yes, fine, a loan," Marian murmured, shaking her head to clear it some. She bid him a good night as she all but ran inside. Closing the door behind her, she stood there for a moment, her back resting on the wooden frame as a finger pressed against her chin in curious thought.

It occurred to her, Leto appeared to rarely laugh, but she rather liked the sound of it. A lot, actually. It sounded warm, and from the heart. In that moment, he looked...

"Marian," The young woman snapped to attention, her eyes searching the dark room about her. She knew the voice, and a flickering match lighting a candle drew out the face of her mother from the darkness. "You're home very late. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," She blushed, moving to walk past her mother as she kept her head down to try and hide her reddening face. As she reached the stairs Leandra called out to her once more.

"You know, my family never approved of me marrying your father. Wasn't the right kind of society. A mage," She walked over to her daughter, sliding her hand around her cheek to turn her face into the light of the candle. "You have a good heart, Marian." Leaning in, she place a kiss on Marian's brow, before she headed up the stairs herself, her night gown flowing gracefully in her wake.

Marian followed her up shortly thereafter. She took to her room, closing the door. She had much on her mind, but when her body hit the bed, she was out near instantly. She did not remember dreaming, which was usually a good thing. However, when she woke she felt like she'd been crushed under a mountain troll's foot. Groaning, she shifted slightly, but the light through her window burned her eyes. Silently she cursed her mother's insistence that all their rooms would be the first things to be thoroughly scrubbed. If the grime that had covered them still remained, she was sure the sun would not hurt near so much.

"Marian~" Bethany's sweet, soft voice called to her, and the elder girl groaned, waving in the direction of the sound. She meant to do a 'go away' wave, but Bethany came further into her sister's room. Jumping onto Marian's bed, Bethany picked at the blankets and pillows that hide her sister's face. "Sweet Sister?" Bethany sang, eventually relenting removing the covers. Marian relaxed once more, but Bethany had not given up. She felt a tug, and shuffling, before finding her sister's bright and cheerful face right before hers under the covers.

"So, where were you last night?" Bethany beamed, a grin pulling across her round, pink lips. "Carver thinks you set that whole thing up, so you could go meet up with a boy. Is it true? Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Wha~ Oh, Bethany, please!" Marian held her hand to her head, her eyes pinching shut. "You know you should never listen to Carver."

Bethany giggled, and Marian felt a warm touch to her temple that eased back the morning hangover. "You should get up though, or father may start to listen to him. He didn't seem to like the idea last night. Mother had to slip him a sleeping tea to get him to bed."

It was with much more effort than Marian cared to admit, that she left her bed. Scrubbing her face and hands in the basin, her mind went back to the events of last night. What she remember, unfortunately, was all of it. In reverse. Remembering the feeling of Leto, as she held him close. He smelled of grass, and the wind. She shook her head, rubbing her hands over her face to dislodge the memory. Then or Hadriana, and Danarius. Then the images of the Den, and she found herself sitting on the edge of her bed as she tried to catch her breath.

"It won't do," Marian murmured, rubbing a finger over her chin. Deciding it was time to pay 'that dwarf' a visit, Marian dressed quickly and slipped out of the house before any could ask any questions of her.

Her feet took her to the docks, to the small office that Varric rented out for when his business brought him into town. She knocked sharply at the door, hoping the dwarf didn't have a hangover that would keep him from hearing her pounding. A disgruntled yell, and some shuffling, answered her shortly after the third rapping. When the door opened Marian was surprised to see a woman standing in the entryway. She had long, curly locks, deep soulful eyes, and a smile that rivaled the morning sun. She giggled when she saw Marian, her chin tilting to the side as she whispered something over her shoulder. Marian shifted her feet, and then stopped when she realized she was adopting another's bad habit.

"I'm here to see Varric," Marian said, frowning as the sun kissed beauty gave her a smile breathed of mirth.

"Aye," The woman cooed, her lips pursing in some unknown amusement. "He's vivacious, but it's a bit early for morning house calls. You could try your luck tonight maybe though, since you're such a sweet little thing."

Marian flushed, catching her leering smile and stammered out, "I-I'm not a whore!"

"Now, now, don't pick on the little Hawke," Varric's voice came from inside the small house. The woman laughed in reply, turning around she bent down and gave the now present Varric a kiss upon the cheek. She pulled a cloak from beside the door, and slipped it on as she skipped away from the two. She blew a kiss to Marian, or Varric, before turning to head into the city. Varric gave a hearty laugh, "That girl~"

"I did not mean to interrupt," Marian hesitated, noticing the disheveled state of Varric's red tunic and currently unkempt hair.

"Now, now, I always have time for my little Hawke," Varric smiled at Marian, waving the young woman inside his residence. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of the great Vivianna's apprentice Battle Mage?" Marian rolled her eyes, but smiled as she pulled up a seat at the small table in his kitchenette.

"Come now. You act as if I'm somebody instead of a nobody," Marian scoffed, her eyes going to the drawings that lay strewn across the table. Her fingers picked up one, and it looked to be a crossbow, but she'd never seen anything of its kind before. "What's this?" She asked, genuinely curious. Varric, having set down a mug of coffee in front of her, pulled the paper from her fingers.

"It's not polite to go through other people's things," Varric chided, as he gathered up all the similar pages that littered the table and carefully rolled them into a parchment case.

"Really? This coming from you, who gets into everyone's business whenever you're in town? You have no idea the pandemonium caused in the markets when you left with nearly all the city's saffron on your last visit!"

"I'm a business man, Hawke," He smiled as he sipped on his own mug as he went to a nearby desk. Digging about he pulled out a leather strap and began pulling his golden hair back in its customary style. "Best price in twelve cities. I made a small fortune off that purchase."

"I'm very happy to hear your doing so well," Marian smiled, bracing her arm on the table so she could rest her chin in her palm. She enjoyed being around Varric. If she hadn't joined the guards, she would have liked to have helped her father in appraising the magical goods the dwarf procured from the city.

"I know I'm a thing to behold~"

"A radiant beauty, of course," Marian grinned, well acquainted with how he liked to have his ego stroked.

"But I haven't seen you in a couple months now, little Hawke. What gives?"

"Awe~? Did you miss me?"

"Like the ocean misses the shore."

"That's sweet... I think. I've been really busy in my apprenticeship. More like I'm kept really busy. I've barely been inside the city, and was out on patrol when you were last in port."

"So you figured you'd come see me soon as you heard I was back?" Varric asked, but he held that usual knowing smile.

"I, ugh, need something," Marian fidgeted with her fingers, but Varric took a seat, lifting his currently bare feet upon the table as he relined back. He waited for Marian to continue, decidedly not making it easier on the girl. "A blade. Maybe some armor. Something strong, and... sharp like."

Varric burst in to laughter at the young mage's description of her desire of a sword. "Most blades are 'sharp like'. You're a mage though, Hawke, what do you want with a sword, and 'maybe' armor?"

Marian flushed, her eyes keeping to the floor. She didn't think it would hurt to tell Varric Leto's plans, but she'd not had his permission. It would be overstepping a boundary. "I just need them. You get lots of weapons and things people want to pawn off on you. Surely you can find something?"

"Depends on the person who will be wielding it. Weapons, good weapons, are a personal choice. It's like... Like picking a perfect mate. When they're in your hands, they feel like they were always suppose to be there, and you're the fool for not realizing that this was what you were missing all along. The weight is perfect in your hands, and when you dance, it's in sync with you." Marian found her face blushing as she listen to Varric romanticize about weapons. Swallowing hard, she licked her lips.

"That's very, uh, yeah. I want that."

"We _are_ still talking about weapons, Miss Hawke?" Varric lifted one thick brow as he give her a knowing smile. "Oh, hey, I saw that elf of yours the other day. Asking where you lived now. Told em', since I figured, well... You know." Marian spit her drink out, her eyes going wide as she looked at Varric.

"He's not mine!" Marian sputtered, trying to wipe her the dark fluid from her chin with the back of her hand. Varric only gave a curious, 'oh' sound as he smirked at her. Finishing his drink, he placed it down and clasped his hands together, rubbing them vigorously.

"Alright, so, a blade aye?" Marian nodded slowly, somehow feeling like she was answering a different question entirely. Varric gave a slow nod. "I think I know what you're looking for."

Marian walked from the Dwarf's abode in a bewildered state of confusion. She didn't really know what to make of that meeting. She had to ask a stay on payment for the blade, as she'd just given all her money up the night before. Not that she told Varric that little detail.

Shaking her head, Marian wondered if she was being ridiculous. Was it really her place to get so involved in Leto's life? After almost two years, she'd thought she'd come to know Leto and Varania more than anyone in this blighted city. She'd thought of them as friends. For all that time, and even longer, she wagered, he'd hidden so much. She understood that people had secrets, but she wondered. Was it a lack of trust in her that he'd never once made mention of his fighting in that place, of his mother and Dolan, or any of his plans? Had he not thought that she would help him?

Kicking a stone, she shoved her hands in her pockets. Despite her pledge to never condone slavery, she'd never done anything to try and free Leto or his family. What good was that pledge then? She was becoming a Battle Mage in a city that operated on people like Leto and Varania. She was a mage! What good was all this power if she couldn't she do something to protect those she cared about?

A flash of memory, and she found herself stroking the cheek that had been slapped so long ago. Shaking her head, she tried to dislodge the thoughts that had been urging her to using her powers.

She didn't know if she should have been so forceful in placing herself in Leto's affairs. It was his family he was fighting for, and she understood what that was like. Coming to conclusion, she decided that for as long as he let her, she would be there for him.

TBC~

* * *

**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

Author's Note:

To be honest I like to do a slow build to my stories, but I can't believe how long it took to get this far in. Also, _finally_ I was able to toss in Varric. I'm actually really looking forward to getting into the next chapters, as I get to have more action, some angst, more Fenris/Hawke, and more Varric. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with it so far! I hope are enjoying this as much as I am.


	10. Chapter 10: Vivianna's Plan

**Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter 10**

**Vivianna's Plan**

The tournament was truly the event, as it were, of the city. She found it strange that she had no clue of the upcoming occasion yet everyone _else_ seemed to know of it. She consoled herself to the knowledge that she had been outside the city, and on patrol for near most of her time under Vivianna. Bethany all but rolled her eyes at Marian when she learned of her sister's absolute lack of knowledge of something that had been the talk of every apprentice at the Arcane Halls for months now.

"Really, it's not like I get out much!" Marian pouted, crossing her arms as she walked her sister to her classes.

"Marian, I'll let it slide. Even though there have been near double the number of traders and warriors in the city. Even though the port, where we now live very close to, is packed with ships. Even though every night Carver can go on, and on, and on about how much he can't 'Wait to see some real sword fighting'!"

"He always says that!" Marian knew her sister was only jabbing in jest, and she understood that. She had heard Carver talking about swords and battles and had simply tuned her him out. Ignoring Carver was one of the ways she had thus far managed not to put a magical force slap down on the boy. Even after all this time it still seemed that he felt the way to improve his image was to belittle his sister.

She sighed, her eyes drawn in by the reflection of the light off the water. Somehow, it seemed so strange, but with how the city was built, dipping towards the Bay, you could see the crystal shimmering waters from anywhere inside the city. The smell of the fishing ships on the port may have effected how she felt about being close to the water, but even still she caught herself admiring it's strange beauty.

The ocean was a vast, open emptiness. A terrifying notion, and yet how freeing that must be to be one of the people out there on the waves. They only stopped in the city. They were free to go, and do as they wished. Her sister's arm slipped around her shoulder, drawing her back out of her musings.

"Something's bothering you Marian." Bethany said, not unkindly. The younger mage slowed her pace to the school, milking the walk to gain extra time with her elder sister.

"Take your pick," Marian murmured, the tirade of problems only seemed to be wall about her, and she didn't know how she was going to scale them anymore. "It's nothing."

"I'm worried about you," Bethany's voice was a whisper. Marian placed her hand over the smaller one that held her about the arm. She squeezed her sister's hand, and trying to send her a smile that would placate.

"Well, how are the two Miss Hawkes today?" Marian frowned as Bethany gave a pleasant smile to the woman who came up behind the two. Hadriana gave a long grin to the two girls, her heavy robes swishing over the stone road as she took up Bethany's other side. "Did you sleep well, my dears?"

Bethany returned the pleasant banter with Hadriana. Marian tired to hide her contempt for the other mage as they neared the tower. When they reached the gate, Marian had a hard time letting go of her sister's hand as she went to join the other mages entering the Halls for classes. Bethany waved her goodbye, and Marian parroted the action.

The walk she made to barracks was lonely, as it always was. Rubbing the arm her sister had held, Marian played like it was the wind that had added a chill to her skin.

When she entered the barracks, she was greeted with the fearful looks of four of the guards from yesterday. Deciding she should apologize, she went toward the group who was polishing their gear. The flinch was visible, and one of them dropped the rag of black oil at her approach.

"I'm sorry," Marian dipped her head to the side, but there were no words offered in return. All of the men looked from one to the other, fear easily readable in their eyes. "Please~"

"Marian!" Vivianna's lioness roar shook through the room. The guards quickly began focusing back on their tasks. Marian made her way to the back of the barracks, to the older woman's quarters.

Opening the door she was greeted with Vivianna's back, her hands splayed upon her desk. A stack of scrolls now littered the usually neat area. Closing the door, Marian noticed the black splatter of ink that dripped down the wood. Near the wall lay the shattered glass of the ink well.

"Bad morning?" Marian ventured, watching her feet as she entered to not step on any of the glass.

"I don't have time for games," Vivianna stated flatly, turning, she crossed her arms and stared coolly at the younger woman. "Let's be blunt, shall we? I've received an offer, by way of courier this morning, from Danarius." Vivianna's fingers lift up a parchment, the red wax seal already broken. "He, being so very generously, has sent me an offer to take you off my hands. Truly, I should consider myself lucky. I won't need to babysit you, or clean up your messes." Marian felt cold hands gripping her in her heart as Vivianna spoke. Her own hand griped about her chest, as though she could ward off the chilly feeling.

"What? I don't understand," Marian's confusion was plainly scrawled across her face, as well as some of the old fear from her first encounter with the magister.

Vivianna asked, brows raising in mock shock, "Aren't you proud of yourself? Showing off for a Magister, and getting his attention? You should be. One of the best places to secure power is at the side of a Magister in Minrathous. You could set your sights on teaching in the Halls, but that's a bit low. The city council maybe, or maybe even a position as a leading magister?"

"Don't send me to him!" Marian surprised herself, and apparently Vivianna, with her plea. "I don't... Please, let me stay." Vivianna frowned, setting down the letter on her desk. She circled around, pulling out her chair and laced her fingers together as she stared off in deep thought. "Messere~," Marian was cut off when Vivianna raised her hand, her arctic eyes still frozen as ice.

"Why?" Vivianna broke the silence eventually, her eyes evaluating her young apprentice.

Marian opened her mouth, then closed it. She frowned, unsure of how to voice the feelings she received from the magister. "When I... When I look into his eyes," Marian's pink tongue darted out to wet her dry lips, "I see the Void." Vivianna inclined her head to the side, not asking for a further explanation then the one Marian had given. Fidgeting on both her feet, she nearly tripped over her own toes when Vivianna spoke once more.

"One does not deny Danarius."

"Please, Vivianna!"

"However," She picked up the missive, and held it up to a candle that had burned low on her desk. "It was only a suggestion. He did not command me to give you up." She watched the paper burn, before dropping it to a metal tray on her desk. Marian found herself able to breathe once more, but her relief was shrot lived because Vivianna's frown only intensified.

"Don't rejoice, my little apprentice. I have only bought you a little time. And, truly, I do mean a _little_. Danarius is not one to be denied. In doing so, I'll have peaked his interest all the more. He may let you stay on with me for a little while, but eventually he will demand I hand you over."

"What do you mean? Can he do that?" Marian stammered, confused by this strange admission. "You are my Master Mage. I am sworn to you! How could he just take me away?"

"Because I do not have the power to stop him!" Vivianna snapped, slamming her pale hand down on her desk. "Maybe by decree of the city council, or by the guidance of the magisters in the Arcane Halls, I could be deemed unfit to fulfill your apprenticeship. Your tousle with those nuggs out there last night does not cast a good light on me either. Maybe it's not enough on its own, but it's the beginning of fodder."

"I'm not leaving you," Marian moved and sat down at the desk across from Vivianna, her eyes shining with the same hard steel as her Master's. One side of Vivianna's painted lips quirked up as she appraised her apprentice.

"What? Not even if a noble offers you their hand?" Marian's face went pale before it flushed crimson. "Don't be so surprised. Gossip is the life blood of our fair city, and I am tasked with drinking it in. I know why your family suddenly moved as it did. I had figured that it was a trivial matter, the proposed engagement. However," Vivianna looked at the ash that remained of the morning's missive, "I think there is more then I can see. I had assumed Messere Dolan wants you to start a family for him. A young wife to bear him some strong mage pups. However, if you marry Dolan, he would hold power over your continued education. I know you would not train under me anymore, and I'm sure he would not hand you over to Danarius either. No, you would continue to learn under Artamus and that is something I would not recommend."

"I don't want to marry Artamus Dolan!" Marian snapped, her temper lost with her future being discussed so nonchalantly before her.

"My Sweet, it will not matter what _you_ want," Vivianna flatly stated, her hands dropping to the desk so she could lean toward her distraught apprentice. "The players in this city have moved mountains. Should they fancy you for an apprentice, or wife, then that is what will happen. Through your family, or through me, or through the law. They will find a way. You are still so young, and you're future cannot be grasped by your hands alone. You can't stand for yourself. Yet." Vivianna stood, coming around the desk and pulling Marian to her feet.

"What you need is time! You have the potential to be a great mage, and people are taking notice. I think it's wisest to disappear."

"Disappear?" Marian ask, dumbfounded as Vivianna all but skipped around the room, pulling a very old scroll off a top shelf. She blew the dust off of it, humming as she spread the parchment out on her desk. Marian moved quickly to clear the desk of the candle and tray so she wouldn't burn the paper.

"A map?" Marian whispered, suddenly feeling like a conspirator. Vivianna chuckled, her eyes shimmering ice blues as she grinned.

"Yes, a map. An expedition! It will be perfect. I'd had to delay my plans when I was given you to train. There's an island out across the waters. An old ruin, and the remains of what may be some powerful magical artifacts."

"We... We are allowed to go treasure hunting?" Marian asked in disbelief.

"We are charged with the safety of the city," Vivianna huffed, a smirk across her lips. "The ruins are old, but there's word that's come to me suggesting that a coven has taken up root there. Not really so surprising, however they are not sanctioned by the city, and it's within our borders. Then there are the _other_ rumors."

"What 'other' rumors?" Marian asked as she looked at the small island that was a far distance away from where Minrathous lay on the map.

"That they've been pulling ships into the island's reef. Drowning the crew, or eating them. Either way, it's created a rather bit of fear amongst our sailors. They take a very large route away from the island to avoid it's 'cursed' nature."

"Covens, treasure, sirens~ I don't believe it," Marian frowned, crossing her arms and leaning back.

"Probably just a bunch of pirates that found a good place to hold up. In either case, they are outside the city's walls and within my jurisdiction," Vivianna grinned broadly as she rolled up her scroll. "It will take awhile. Travel, cleaning up the island, and finding any artifacts that may get into the wrong hands if left there. If there are tunnels, it may be even longer. It will give you time, Marian." Vivianna pointedly looked at her apprentice. "That, is the greatest gift I can give you."

"How long?" Marian asked, while Vivianna tapped her fingers to her leg in calculation.

"Including the time to sail the waters, a year. At the minimum."

"A year?!" Marian's mouth dropped, her eyes going large.

"Probably longer," Vivianna apparently was recalculating some things in her head. "Regardless, it needs to be done. Also, you will be out of the city and out of all these mage's conniving grasps. You are almost sixteen now, yes?" Marian gave a small nod, as Vivianna smiled, "You will be an adult when we return then. You will not be bound to obey anything, or anyone, other than the law on our return."

"What about my family?" Marian asked, her eyes darting to the map Vivianna had re-rolled.

"They will receive your stipend as usual. They are citizens so they're under the cities protection. Also, I can arrange for the guards to keep an eye out for them in your absence."

"Yes, but, it's just," Marian frowned her mouth unable to form the words she couldn't speak. She'd never been parted from her family before, and never for such a long time.

"You're options are before you, Marian Hawke." Vivianna turned to a paper on her desk, waving the girl away. "Take the day to consider it. In three months time I'll have everything secured for departure. The games should make a good cover for our departure. I dare not leave before the tournament through, but after they are done it shall be easy to leave with little notice while everyone is getting drunk with celebrations."

"May I tell my family?" Marian asked, knotting her fingers in her lap.

"You will have to tell them you are leaving, though I have concerns. Your sister attends the Arcane Halls, and I'd rather not tip Danarius too soon to our plans. In addition, your father is friends with your would be courter. Hmm," Vivianna thought, rubbing her finger under her chin. "As of this moment, say nothing, for there is nothing to be said. I will arrange for the expedition, and should I happen to require your assistance at the last minute, I'm sure you can be up to the task."

"Ah," Marian frowned bowing her head to keep the sad look from her eyes.

"Now, don't be so down. This will save you any number of propositions for marriage that will undoubtedly be coming your way in the following months. By all mean, my dear, it will do you much good to vanish from Minrathous for a time."

"What will be so difference when I return?" Marian asked, and Vivianna gave a wicked grin.

"You will be strong enough to handle yourself."

For the next few weeks, nothing was spoken of about the plot; for that is truly what Marian considered it. She didn't know if Vivianna was over reacting, but a part of her was worried her Master wasn't. She trusted her Mage Master, and the way she used cold calculations to predicted the movement's of her fellow citizens was unnerving. Mostly, she realized, because it felt like it came with a practiced ease. She was used to this sort of game.

Vivianna insisted that Marian start taking the dreamless sleep potion every night until things were ready. Marian didn't need to ask why. She had long since learned there were mages, besides Hadriana, in the city who walked through dreams as easily as she walked through the rooms in a house. She had learned to steady her mental walls while she slept, but a dreamless sleep potion guaranteed no admittance.

She continued to take her sister to her classes, and continued to pick her up in the evening. After she'd seen Bethany home, Marian made a trip either to Varric or the market. She did not know what she would need for the trip, but she gathered a few items she felt would come in handy, and began to stock up on things in a small pack she kept in her room.

Carver was the only one who seemed to be curious as to her comings and goings. Her brother eyed her skeptically, as though he was trying to discern something. Once he'd offered to have her join him on his trip to Messere Dolan's Estate. He was going to train with Leto, but Marian declined. As much as she wanted to see Leto and Varania, she couldn't bring herself into a scenario where she may run into Artamus. It would be better to avoid that situation.

That's why, two weeks after her talk with Vivianna, Marian was floored to see Dolan's heavy velvet cloak hanging in her home's entryway. Bethany giggled, bouncing into the house and calling a greeting out toward the home's sitting room. The deep voice that greeted her sister was that of Dolan. Marian stood there, unsure if she could simple just leave. Her choice was taken when she heard her sister calling out for her to join them.

Marian kicked the dust from her shoes, brushed the dirt from her robes, and entered their small parlor. Marian breathed in a sigh of relief to find her father was standing in the parlor as well. She unconsciously found herself drawing near her father as though his shadow offered protection. Her mother, catching her movements, grasped her daughter by the arm, and walked her directly before their guest.

"Well, where did your manners go, Marian?" Leandra grinned a warning at her daughter, earning an uneasy smile from Marian.

"Good evening, Messere Dolan," Marian gave a small bow, hoping that her cheeks were not flushing with embarrassment. "I trust all is well?"

"Yes, yes, very well," Artamus sat up at Marian's approach, his smile kind as ever as she took her hand. He pulled it in close, and Marian shot her father a confused, bewildered expression before he had gently kissed her fingers. It took all her nerve to keep from pulling away from the kiss, and she gave an awkward laugh at the gesture. "She truly grows more beautiful each day. You are raising a fine young lady, Leandra."

"That's very good of you," Leandra beamed, giving a small bow to the man.

"Well, it's getting late," Malcolm interjected, much to Marian's relief. "I thank you for your visit, old friend, but I must be seeing my children to bed."

"To bed, with the sun still out?" Artamus balked at the notion.

"They have chores they must attend before the light leaves us," Malcolm offered by way of explanation.

"This is why you should take a slave, Malcolm. Menial tasks should not be done by such lovely ladies." Leandra blushed, Bethany giggled in agreement, and Marian fought the urge to walk out of the room all together. Thankfully, Artamus did take his leave, giving each of the ladies another kiss upon the hand. Marian noticed how the older man turned his eyes upon her as his lips brushed against the back of her hand.

When he had left, Malcolm escorting his friend back to his estate, Marian moved to ascend the stairs to her room when she was accosted.

"Well, my little Marian," Leandra beamed at her daughter, "I think you have your first admirer."

"What? Ew! Mother!" The outburst came from Bethany, not Marian, who had taken a mute and pale stance on the stairs. "He's as old as Daddy, Mother, and he's balding on top."

"He's also very rich, and he's also very kind," Leandra huffed, returning to the kitchen to stir the soup once more. "It's a very nice complement, if nothing else, Marian."

"Come on," Bethany swooped past her sister, grabbing Marian's hand and dragging her upstairs. "Really?!" Bethany spat when she'd pulled Marian into her room. "Of all the... Didn't she run away from a 'well to do man' to marry father?"

"I'm sure she doesn't actually entertain the notion of me marrying Messere Dolan," Marian tried to sooth her agitated sister, rubbing her hands along the younger girls arms to comfort her.

"Oh, no?" Bethany asked, spinning on her sister. "She seemed just fine with you going off to the guards so we could be citizens. Now you're always gone, and in some danger or another. Why not go and trade you off to a noble for some money and title?!"

"Bethany," Marian blinked, her sister's eyes were blue tempests of rage. "Bethany, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Her sister spat, breaking the Marian's hold. "I just see what they've done to you. How they use you. You're a person, Marian. Not some doll, or a weapon. You should be able to have a life, but you never get to have one! You're always giving up everything for everyone else. It has to stop!"

Marian had never seen her sister so angry, her eyes were flashing, and light waves of energy were pulsing off her small frame. Taking a step forward, Marian slowly placed her hand under her sister's chin, and turned her face up so she could look her in the eye.

"Bethany. I regret nothing I've done," Bethany frowned her mouth opened to protest, but Marian hushed her with a finger to her lips. "Everything I've done has been for you all, but, and please understand Bethany, that I'm alright with the dangers I face. I know that I'm not only helping to protect the city, but everyone who is important to me. You," Marian leaned down, tapping her forehead to her sisters softly, "are one of the most important people to me. I'm glad I can protect you."

"_One_ of the most?" Bethany asked, a ting of humor push out the anger that taken her over before. Marian laughed, and gave a shrug.

"You _are_ the most important person to me. Just don't tell Carver," Marian whispered the last, and kissed her sister on her crown. When she finally released her sister from the embrace, Marian made her way into her room, and took a deep breath. She suddenly hoped that the tournament could be over so she could escape the city. The only thing in their plans that bothered her, was that she would be leaving her sister. It was a thought that kept Marian up the entire night.

TBC~

* * *

**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

Author's Note:

Sorry for the delay and a shorter chapter. Things went crazy, but are settling. I hope you enjoy, and I'll try to get the next chapter up much soon! Thank you for the reviews, and I shall try to do better re-reading when going through as well.


	11. Chapter 11: Farewell

**Tale from Tevinter**

**Chapter 11**

**Farewell**

The days leading up to the tournament were all a blur. Marian still followed through with her regular routine until the last week. By that time, the school had closed down, because no one was focusing on their studies anyways. The docks were packed, as was every inn, stable, and brothel in the port town. The arena was a large, circular building that was in the heart of the city. Many shop keepers had taken to setting up stalls around the arena to capitalize on the booming city's influx of visitors.

Varric had told Marian of his massive profits, and even given her father a bonus and some vacation to enjoy the event. Since Varric's stock was cleaned out three days prior, there was really no point in staying open. Also, the dwarf was planning on being one of the drunk spectators during the competition. He'd offered to save a seat for Marian, but the girl had cautiously refused. She didn't want to watch the fighting. Not that she couldn't appreciate a good match, but she knew Leto would be in there. The last time she'd seen him fighting, was in a pit of worgs, the ground splattered with his blood.

As it was, it was the night before the tournament, and the city was abuzz. An energy had taken hold of Minrathous, and Marian could feel it vibrating across her skin. Sighing, she flipped, turning over in her small bed. It was well into the middle of the night, but she couldn't bring herself to sleep. Her fingers played with the red ribbon that bound her braid, as her thoughts were a jumble of what she knew was to come. So engrossed was she in her own mind's ramblings, she jumped from fright when she heard a rapping at her window.

Drawing out a mage light, Marian pulled back the covers as she slowly crept across the cool wooden floor of her room. She pulled back one of the dark green drapes that hung over her window as she tried to peer outside. Sighing, she swished a hand at her mage light to extinguish the blue orb. It wasn't allowing her to see out into the dark. A face popped into her view, and she jumped back, a hand grasping her skipping heart. Taking the window and pushing it open, she found herself face to face with a very devilish looking grin upon a tan skinned, red haired elf.

"You jumped for fright," Leto whispered, apparently proud that he'd scared the mage within an inch of her life.

"What did you expect? You're on my roof," Marian whispered out to the elf who was nimbly sitting on his haunches on the overhang under her window. "I don't often get many visitors this way."

"I would hope no visitor comes this way to see you," Leto smiled, his green and golden eyes beaming warmly at Marian. "I received a very fine blade, and some chainmail, today from that dwarf friend of yours."

"Oh, that's good, um. Well, I hope that it's good? Do you like it?" Marian found herself stumbling over her words, which earned her a soft chuckle.

"They are very fine indeed. Far superior than anything I have ever used." Marian breathed a sigh of relief. When Varric had shown her the massive two handed sword he'd found for her, her chin nearly hit the ground. She'd shouted at him to take it back, to find something reasonable, but Varric had insisted it was perfect. She was glade, now, that she'd listened to the crazy dwarf.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" She asked as she leaned a little farther out, resting her head on her palm as she inspected the elf who lounged on her roof. "It's a busy day for you tomorrow."

"That is true. I should be," Leto clucked his tongue, shaking his head in dismay, "but try as I might, dreams will not come. I thought I would dream of my mother, and sister, and of them finally being free. That, or maybe of the battle to come. Instead I close my eyes, and I see..."

He didn't finish the thought, but instead shifted closer to Marian who leaned closer to hear him better. She blinked, frozen as he closing the distance between them. His long, tanned fingers slid along her cheek, the callous of his hands scrapping against her smooth skin. Marian's breath caught in her throat, her mind emptied of all thought as lips pressed against her own. The kiss was soft, and just when it processed through her mind that, yes, indeed, she was being kissed, it ended. Leto drew back, his one hand sliding through her raven braid as it tumbled about her stunned, red face.

"It's a tradition, for a warrior to get a favor from his lady. Good luck, some might say," He said. His face was turned away, his own cheeks held a rosy glow under tan skin as moss green eyes studied what dangled in his grasp. Marian flew a hand to her now loose braid, finger's feeling it come apart about her grasp. "May I?" Leto asked, indicating the red ribbon he'd unlaced from her hair.

Marian, still speechless, gave a nod, and reached out for his hand. Pulling his wrist close, she tied the ribbon about his wrist while she did her best not to notice how close he was at this moment. Even if he was still technically outside. She became highly aware of how close she was to her bed, and just how little coverage her night gown afforded. Taking a breath, she tried to still her thoughts as she gave a shy smile back to the elf after she secured the crimson ribbon.

"You're suppose to give the favor back. When you win," Marian said, as Leto examined the ribbon with a soft smile. "That's how it works, or at least how it does in those fairytale books my mother used to read me."

"Then I shall cherish this, until that time," Leto smiled, and Marian's heart skipped several more beats as she felt the heat of his breath upon her face.

"Good night, Hawke," were the words Marian received, but not a final parting kiss. She found herself disappointed at that. Leto gave a small bow of his head, and he nimbly jumped from her roof. Her knees trembled, and Marian gently touched her fingers to the lips that had the ghost of a feeling of the kiss still upon them.

Leto had just kissed her.

Eventually she closed her window, and lay in her bed, but sleep was not on her mind. She shoved her head in her pillow, trying to ignore the fact that tomorrow may mean his death and was probably the cause for such bold actions. The part that was really bothering her, was that she realized she wished he'd done it sooner. That, or if she had. No, it was foolish to dwell on something that was past. Though the future didn't seem much brighter. She hoped that Leto would win the tournament, but she wouldn't be there for it. She would be Vivianna, stocking their ship and crew as they prepared to sail away, for much longer then she cared to imagine at the moment.

It was somewhere in this torrent of emotions, of wanting to stay, of needing to go, of fear and hope that sleep finally took her. She woke the next morning to Carver poking her cheek with his finger. "Sister, it's late. Everyone else has already gone."

Marian blinked her eyes scratchy as she gave a stiff nod to her brother. Carver was frowning, but he usually frowned at her. She was surprised when his finger brushed against the salty residue on her cheek.

"You were crying. Why?" Carver gripped his hand about his long sword, his body going stiff as though there was some unnamed assailant hiding in her room. Marian shook her head, rubbing her hands against her face.

"No, it's nothing," He did not look like he believed her, and she cocked her head to the side as she evaluated him. "Why are you not already at the tournament grounds? I figured you and Varric would already be seated in the front row."

"Yeah, because I'm so one dimensional," Carver huffed, and Marian blinked in surprise. Yes, actually, she wanted to say, he was! "I'm just making sure you show up safe. There are a lot of creeps in the city as of late."

"Ha! As of always, you mean? No, it's fine. Go ahead, Carver. I need to go see Vivianna today anyways. Besides, I'd rather not watch a blood sport."

"Leto will be there," Carver said bluntly. "He could use the support of his friends. Tell your Master to piss off for a day."

"I can't, Carver."

"He's your friend, Marian!" Carver spat at her, and Marian froze while pulling herself from her blankets to evaluate her brother. "You should go, for him. Do you think it was easy for him, a slave, to even gain admittance?" Marian was dumbstruck by her brother's words. Not because she didn't know these things, but that they came from Mr. Oblivious Carver! "You know what, never mind! I'm going to be there for him, even if you won't." With that, Marian was left alone to dress.

It took her surprisingly little time to gather up all the things she intended to take on her voyage. Mostly because she'd already packed them up long ago. Once she was dressed, she grabbed her staff, and left her home on the ports. The city was still bustling, however it was mostly due to late risers. The flow of the crowds all moved in one direction, towards the arena. Marian didn't. She went in the opposite direction, towards the docks. When she arrived, it was easy to find Vivianna. She stood tall, and gleaming like a beacon of ice against the backdrop of the sea. Even if it were not for the visual cue, her sharp bark could be heard for a good mile. Beside her stood a massively huge man, who also was yelling orders, though at the sailors about them.

"You, stupid excuse for a soldier! You look like a lumbering can. Learn what it takes to walk, and do it quicker. That's how you pick up the pace!"

"I see you're at it again," Marian called over to the woman who was standing on the docks, her aggravation coming off in waves.

"Andraste herself couldn't have handled such incompetence," Vivianna scoffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Any of your family know?"

"None," Marian turned her head down, a twinge of sadness pulling at her heart. The last person she'd seen was Carver, and he'd not been happy with her in the least. She would never seen them again. At least not for a very long time.

"It's better this way," Vivianna nodded, before she berated the next guard who was moving more slowly then she deemed appropriate. "Get your things, and yourself upon the ship. We'll be moving out shortly. Also," She called to Marian who began to head to the ship's ramp, "In my cabin you will find some parchment rolls and quills. Go ahead and write them a letter. We'll be sending word via falcon when we've embarked."

The ship was mostly stocked, it seemed, and it was just a matter of moving some weapons and armor onto the ship. Marian made her way around the scrambling soldiers and sailors. She eventually, with the help of one sailor, found herself in Vivianna's quarters. As Vivianna had said, there lay the paper and ink she needed to write her family. Sitting down, she realized she had no idea what to write. After lifting and dropping the quill several times, Marian finished what she thought was a decent enough letter.

_'Dear Family,_

_Please do not panic, I am well. It was deemed best that I leave the city for a time. I'm with my Master Mage and we are going to clear an island of witches. Probably. Regardless, I hope that all of you will stay well until my return. A return that will not be for some time. Father, Mother, I love you both. Bethany, I would have taken you with me if I could. Be strong, little Sister. Carver... You're an ass, but you're an ass with a good heart. Please stop being such an ass._

_Love,_

_Marian Hawke'_

"Just the right touch to it," Marian gave a half smile as she blew on the ink. Rolling up the small parchment, she slide the note into the carrying case. In the corner of the room stood the perch of the falcon who would deliver the message to her family. The bird gave a flip of its head, and a small cry when Marian had finished.

A knock on the cabin's door drew Marian from the desk. Opening the wooden door, she was greeted with a taunt salute from one of the soldiers. "Messere, we are ready to depart. You've been requested to be on deck."

Nodding, Marian followed the guard back to the deck of the ship, where all the supplies were now secured. Vivianna waved her over to her side, a mischievous smile on her lips as the anchor was pulled from the water. "You've written your letter?"

Marian nodded, her fingers still holding the small case. The elder mage nodded, her eyes scanning over the city as the ship began to pull out from the docks. "They'll receive word from my men as well. We'll hold off on sending your letter until we're a day out." Marian nodded, curious as to the level of precaution Vivianna was taking in their flight from the city. It seemed a bit much, but her master had always be cautious.

From the deck of the boat, Marian stood next to her master, as she watched the city shrink and disappear in the horizon. She stayed on deck until the sun dropped below the blue of the sea, and the moon took light in the sky. Her mind was still awash with her parents, her sister and brother, and also of Leto and his family. She wondered if he succeeded. She'd never prayed, but in her heart she was begging the Maker to grant him victory. It was silly to pray, but she didn't know what else to do.

Eventually Vivianna sent one of the soldiers to summon her apprentice to dinner. Only part of the ship's crew, commissioned by Vivianna, ate with them. The rest were still tending to sailing them through the waters. It wasn't easy to find a captain who would accept the mage's proposition, however Vivianna had managed. Marian did not know if that was because of her Master's reputation or if it was due to whatever coin she'd offered the captain.

The captain, a burly man covered in tattoos and a braided black beard, was not present for the meal Marian shared with the crew. He and Vivianna, she was told when she asked, were dining in the captain's quarters. There was a low laugh from some of the sailors, a snickering under their breath. Marian had to focus intently on her meal as she tried to keep her temper in check. She was sure Vivianna would not approve of her starting a fight with the ship's crew, nor with her casting any spells within their sinkable confines.

"Ya know, it ain't good luck. Brining women on a ship," One of the sailors muttered, part of the gruel they'd been served escaping his bearded jaw. Marian lost her appetite as she watched the man masticate. Dropping her spoon, she rose to leave the cabin. Needing air, she found her way back onto the deck of the ship. The reek of the sailors was obviously something she would have to get used to.

"What's wrong, little lady," a gruff sounding voice drew Marian's attention back to the hatch she'd just left. Two of the sailors had apparently followed her out onto the deck. Quirking a brow at the men, she wondered if they had any idea what sort of mess they were about to step into. "Not feeling well?"

"I'm a mage," Marian said bluntly, placing hands on her hips to draw herself up in height. The men laughed, and the smell of liquor carried on the wind causing Marian to flinch. Obviously she couldn't appeal to their logical sides. "If you touch me, I will kill you."

"You kill us, and what do you think happens to your pretty little Master?" The taller of the men asked, his grin only serving to make him even more ugly then Marian had thought possible. "Sides, we don't mean you no harm."

"Yeah," The shorter man added in, his finger scratching at his left eye, which appeared to be glass. "Just making sure you're not ill. Wouldn't want our special guest to be ill. I know how to make a lady feel good. Fix you right up," He gave a hobbled approach, and Marian sighed. She almost felt bad for what she was about to do to these pathetic, desperate sailors. Almost.

She splayed her fingers, pulling on ice; the one thing that wouldn't burn down the ship. She never got a chance to cast though. A yell snapped her head to the side, and she instinctively pulled the ice into a shield about her side. The blow did not come for her though. Instead a dark blur pushed past her, and into the very confused drunkards in front of her. Marian blinked, trying to focus her eyes as a blade slashed out. The sailors both stumbled, one falling over with a hilt blow to his head as the other managed enough sense to run. He tripped, tumbling down the hatch into the belly of the ship. His voice piercing the laughter of the men below as he screeched of ghosts.

Marian shook the ice shield away, letting the crystals flake down to the deck of the ship as she took in the form of the man who had intervened. When he turned, her amber eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she screeched, "Carver?!"

Her brother rose, standing as he glowered at her. His attention diverting momentarily to kick the sailor who had now passed out fully on the deck beside him. "What are you doing here?" Marian choked, trying to find words as she watched her brother sheath his sword.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" Carver spat out, crossing his arms as he continued to scowl at his elder sister.

"I'm supposed to be here!" Marian yelled, earning a snort from her brother.

"You shouldn't be on a ship full of these... Types," Carver huffed, gesturing to the man who was snoring by his boot. "I knew you were acting strange. I followed you when you left the house. Figured something wasn't right. Glade I did."

"I'm going to have to tell Vivianna your here. Oh, this won't be good," pressing her fingers into her temples as she tried to ward off the pressure that was building in her head. "We're only a day out. We could still turn the ship around. Drop you off back home. I'm sure we can do that."

"No," Came a very stern, and very angry voice from the hold. Vivianna's silvery mane came into view in the moonlight, her ice blue eyes scanning the scene before her. On her heel was the captain of the ship and two guards, as well as the drunken sailor that cowered behind the group. When Vivianna looked to the collapsed sailor, she shot a questioning glance at her apprentice.

"He wanted to be friendlier then I cared for," Marian crossed her arms, shrugging at her Master. Vivianna gave a cool look to the captain, who in turn directed a deathly dark gaze to the sailor who had called them to the decks. When he gave a scared shake of his head, the captain, a man who rivaled a Qunari in stature, hauled back and slammed a fist into the sailor's face. Marian tried not to flinch, but failed as the captain beat the sailor into a bloody mess in front of everyone.

"Apologies," He said eventually, shaking the blood from his fist as he kicked the groaning sailor. "It's been a long time since my men have been in the company of Ladies. They've forgotten their manners. I'll make sure I give them all a good talking to. It will not happen again."

"I'm sure you will see to it, Genthus," Vivianna nodded at the captain, an 'or else' hanging plainly in the air. Spitting on the prone sailor, the bearded captain bellowed for his men to take the two upstarts down into the hold.

"Messere," Marian strode to her Master, who had a sharp gaze set on Carver. "My brother, Carver, Messere," Marian gestured to Carver, whom her Master had not met before. Though she introduced him, the curious look did not leave the Master Mage's eyes. "I do not~ I did not bring him. He snuck aboard," Marian stammered, shooting a glance at her brother who simply stood there.

"We can't take him back," Vivianna restated her assertions. "It will be known we are gone by now, and, should we return, leaving will be all the harder."

"But, we're only a day out!" Marian begged, rushing to stand before Vivianna with a silent plea in her eyes. "He's but a child!"

"Where not you?" Vivianna raised her brow at Marian, her eyes regarding the stowaway. "No. He stays. You can use a sword then?" Vivianna gestured to Carver's sheathed blade. "Accomplished enough to use it on more than just the intoxicated?"

"I'm skilled with my blade," Carver held up his chin, crossing his arms.

"Stowaways are usually thrown overboard. You stay under the condition that you are now my hired sword hand," As Vivianna spoke, Carver raised himself up, his ego being easily stroked by the powerful mage's proclamation of him being a 'hired sword'.

"I could do that," Carver grinned, and Vivianna returned the smile for a sinister one of her own.

"Good. Then, as my sword hand, you will do me the service of keeping an eye on my apprentice. A job I'm sure you'll be able to accomplish," Vivianna, gently cupped Marian's cheek, her decidedly evil smile never faltering. "She is precious to me. I shall not see her harmed during this adventure."

Marian's jaw dropped as her Master departed, leaving her and her brother alone on the deck. She'd just saddled her with caring for her brother? For a year?

"Well, she's interesting. Hey, Sis, where are we going?" Marian groaned as she dropped her head into her hands. How could her luck have fallen so low? Sighing, Marian realized she would need to rewrite her letter to her family.

_'Dear Family._

_I'm sorry, but I've been departed on an expedition. I'm with my Master, and Carver is with me. Trust me, I did not ask him to come. He followed me. I will take care of him, and see that he is safe. Bethany, please take care of Mother and Father. I will send word again once I am able._

_Love,_

_Marian Hawke.'_

TBC~

* * *

**Disclaimer: Dragon Age and all of its character's and places are property of BioWare and the respective copyright holders. OC(s) Include Artamus Dolan, and (sorta) Anitra.**

Author's Note:

Another semi shorter chapter. Also, finally was able to get a kiss in. I know it's taken many chapters to reach this point, and I hope that it was worth it. I promise there will be more than just kisses in the future. The next chapter shall be longer, and I can't wait to have fun with it. Thank you everyone for your reviews and critiques!


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